


Doppelganger

by Lunadeath02



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Attempt at Humor, Dramedy, Light Angst, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Self-cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 14:48:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9389759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunadeath02/pseuds/Lunadeath02
Summary: Merlin meets his doppelganger, but does it really mean his own death? Arthur is prince regent, and it might be going to his head.





	1. Chapter 1

Doppelganger part 1

Warnings: language; post-series three (might have spoilers), more in later chapters

**

There was no doubt about it: Merlin was losing it.

Arthur had always said that he was mentally afflicted, but the weirdness that normally happened around Merlin was nothing compared to what he had just experienced.

He'd been talking to Gwen in the marketplace one lovely morning, looking over a cart of silk scarves when it'd happened. It was just a glance in one of the round mirrors that Gwen was using to look at herself in, but he could have sworn he'd seen someone who looked like—or maybe just resembled—himself.

When Merlin had turned his head, the person was gone, but the image was still burned in his mind: a dark hooded cloak, a black bracelet around a thin wrist as the hand kept the cloak closed, and his own face—although more careworn—staring back at him. It was like a ghost or hallucination. Or maybe he was dreaming; he pinched himself, waiting to wake up, but he still stood there in the middle of the busy marketplace staring at the spot the where the figure had been only a moment ago.

"Did you see-?" Merlin started, but then quickly opted not to say anything. Gwen might be a good friend, but he didn't think telling her he thought he saw someone that looked just like him would go down well.

"See what?" she said, turning to try seeing what he saw. "What is it, Merlin?" she asked when she noticed the freaked out look on his face. When he realized why she looked so concerned, he forced his face into something neutral.

"Oh, er, nothing. I think I was just seeing things." He laughed nervously and turned back to her. "So, which one are you getting, the red or pink one?"

"I don't know," Gwen sighed, turning back to the mirror. "They're both so lovely. The red would go with my formal wear, no doubt about that; but the pink would look good with two of my other dresses. What do you think, Merlin?"

"The red would be nice for your formal dress, I agree, but the pink suits you better."

"You're so sweet, Merlin! If only I had enough to get both, though… oh, Merlin, don't—"

Merlin handed the merchant the amount for the one scarf as Gwen was getting money out for the other. "Think of it as a gift from me," he said, taking the pink scarf and wrapping it around her head. "Look at that," he beamed. "Like a princess."

"Oh, stop," she tittered, blushing. She put her red scarf into her shopping basket. "You really didn't have to do that for me, you know."

"I rarely have the chance to buy you something, as a thank you for all the times you've helped me out. So, thank you, Gwen."

"You're so wonderful, Merlin," she said, as they walked toward a cart filled with fruit. "You'll make some girl very lucky one day."

Merlin scoffed silently to himself. He doubted very much that he'd find a girl to marry. He'd already felt married, thanks to Arthur. It seemed like it was always the same: 'scrub the floor, Merlin', 'wash my tunics, Merlin', 'fix the button on this jacket, Merlin', 'clean out my chamber pot, Merlin', 'Get me my dinner, Merlin'. All that was missing was the actual wedding ceremony and the pregnant belly. Not that he'd done anything that would result in a pregnant belly from Arthur. He blushed at the thought, embarrassing himself, but Gwen thankfully hadn't notice. He didn't think he was ready to confess his innermost feelings for the prince of prats to anyone just yet.

But as he thought of Arthur, something had crossed his mind. "Gwen?" he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes?" She blinked up at him; the sun was rather bright behind him.

"I was wondering… about you and Arthur. I mean I thought for sure that the two of you—"

Gwen laughed, and it was obvious to Merlin that she really didn't want to talk about it, and he was about to let the issue rest when she finally said: "There are many factors into why—"

"It's because he snores, isn't it?" Merlin joked, hoping to keep the mood between them light. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her.

She whacked him on the shoulder for his cheek. "No, that's not the only reason."

"Right," Merlin said, straightfaced. "There's also his morning breath and smelly feet."

"Merlin!" Gwen gasped, half outraged and half amused. They ended up laughing as they made their way through the marketplace, and Merlin's doomy feeling left instantly.

He'd almost forgotten about seeing the look-alike until two days later when he was in the market again to buy himself a new pair of boots. His old ones were already getting too frayed around the edges, and no matter how many times he tried to use magic to fix them they'd just keep getting unraveled. He was just wondering if it was because he wasn't using the right kind of spell for fixing boots when he saw the cloaked figure again. Merlin whipped his head around just fast enough to see the figure march quickly past one of the carts. Without thinking, Merlin darted off to where the person had disappeared. The moment he rounded the corner, having pushed his way through a sudden flow of people, the figure was gone.

Seeing it twice in such a short amount of time did not bode well. He decided to consult Gaius.

"A look-alike?" Gaius said after Merlin explained. "Now that does sound familiar. Let me check…." He climbed the ladder in order to retrieve one of his more obscure books, which was thick but thankfully not as thick as others. Gingerly, Gaius descended from the ladder and handed the book to Merlin. "Look up 'Doppelganger'."

"How do you spell that?" Merlin asked, leafing through the D's.

Gaius hummed in thought for a moment. "I think it's D-O-P-P-L-E-G-A-U-N-E-R, but don't quote me on that."

Merlin found it, even though Gaius spelled it wrong. "Oh well," Gaius said. "One can't be all knowing. What does it say?"

As Merlin read it silently to himself first, an icy chill go down his spine. "It—it says: 'A ghostly counterpart of a living person, or an alter ego, or a person who has the same name as another.' It also states that," Merlin gulped, throat dry. "That whoever sees their doppelganger will—will—"

Gaius looked over Merlin's shoulder to finish reading what Merlin could not: "—will die. Interesting. You do realize it's just a myth?"

"Yeah, of course, a myth." How could he be so silly? He laughed. "Of course it is! I mean I'm still alive, aren't I? And I saw it twice."

"And you say that the person looked older than you?"

"Only by a bit, but still—same face!" Merlin scrubbed his own face with his hands, which he'd just realized were trembling.

"You sure you weren't mistaken?" Gaius ogled him.

"Very sure. I thought I was seeing things the first time, but then that second time? There was no doubt about it."

Gaius hummed again and then consulted another book. Merlin was too shaken to really do much more than pace the room as he thought on this conundrum. What if it was an omen that he was about to die soon, just as the book had suggested? Or maybe Gaius was right and maybe the person was someone that spookily looked like him. Perhaps the person was a long, lost twin or something. But surely his mother would have told him if he had a brother, right?

"Gaius, could it be—"

"Aha," Gaius said suddenly. "Look here." He pointed at a page in the thinner book he'd opened. "This could be the answer."

"Time travel?" Merlin gasped. He scanned the page quickly, trying to take it all in. "That's—but why would an older me come back to the past? And how is that even possible?" And how did Gaius come to own a book that talked about time travel in the first place? That was what Merlin also wanted to know, but one thing at a time.

"It requires a heavy dose of magical power to be certain," Gaius said, impressed. "And according to the author of this book, one can only time travel for a short period, and then you usually get thrown back to your original epoch; otherwise, if you force yourself to stay using magic, it distorts the flow of continuity or does some horrible unknown… if a person from the future stays in the past for too long there are dire consequences. And the same goes for those that travel to the future."

"What sort of consequences?" Merlin was almost too afraid to ask, but he figured he might as well know; especially if the other person really was himself from the future.

"It gives only a couple examples, but says that the dangers are unpredictable. A person could become stuck in the time period or create a paradox (whatever that is), or could start to age quickly and die."

Merlin gaped. "So, that other me—if he's been here too long… Gaius, could he be aging quickly? Is that why he looks older than me?"

"It is possible." Gaius frowned, rubbing his chin. "As far as we know, he could be you in only a year's time, but he looks older because he's stuck in the past longer than you—he—should be."

Merlin continued to gape, and then his feet were moving faster than his brain could think and he was suddenly in his room flipping through his spell book.

"Merlin, what are you planning?" Gaius demanded, following his headstrong charge.

"If he's stuck here then I have to help him," said Merlin rapidly, still paging through his book and scanning as fast as he could. "I have to try. He is me, after all. I think he is, anyway."

"Merlin, it could be dangerous. The book says that if you have too much contact with yourself from a different timeline there could be dire consequences—you could make things worse for your other self, as well as yourself."

"We don't know that for sure, Gaius," Merlin insisted. "I must find out if he truly is me from the future. He might have some valuable information that we need about what's going to happen. What if it's something bad? Maybe that's why he's here. I should give him as much help as I can."

Gaius let out a long-suffering sigh. "You do realize that you shouldn't mess with time? If something is about to happen then it was meant to be. You might endanger not just your life but the universe."

"No, I can't—" Merlin shook his head. "I didn't feel anything like fear for my life when I looked at him. It was more… I don't know how to explain it, but it just feels as if there's something I need to do. I'm sorry, Gaius, but I have to try." Merlin went back to looking through the magic book, and just when he thought he'd found something that might be of some use, a guard was yelling for him, saying that Arthur needed him right away.

"You better go and see what the prince wants," Gaius said. "Leave the whole doppelganger business alone for now. If you want, I could try looking more into it for you."

"Thank you, Gaius." He put his book back into its hiding place before leaving.

**

When Merlin entered the prince's chambers, there was a "slight" mess littering the floor. More specifically, it was most of the prince's belongings: gold jewelry, boots, shirts, and other knick-knacks that had been gifts from other nobles. It looked as if a small windstorm had hit the room. Arthur was bent over a chest full of bits and bobs when Merlin walked in.

"Merlin, there you are," Arthur said when he looked up. He stopped rummaging in the chest, straightened, and went to his desk. "Have you seen my ring? I thought I left it on the dresser, but it's not there."

"No, Sire, I haven't seen it." Merlin then noticed how ragged Arthur looked, almost maniacal, as he continued his search through his room. "Was the ring priceless?"

"Was it priceless?" Arthur said, voice carrying a slight tone of cruel mimicry. He went down on hands and knees to look under the bed. "Of course it was priceless! It was my mother's ring." He looked up, caught Merlin staring. "Don't just stand there like an idiot, help me find it!"

"Oh, right," Merlin said, and began to do just that. His cheeks blazed red from having been caught staring at Arthur's arse, but it was the git's own fault for waving it in the air like that. He didn't know why he was being asked to search for the ring anyway; it looked as though Arthur had already turned his room upside down and inside out in his hunt for it.

After a half hour searching and still not finding it, Arthur decided to give up for now, although he was reluctant to do so.

"A neighbouring lord will be visiting this weekend, and we're going to be throwing a welcoming feast," Arthur informed Merlin. "We have some negotiations to do, and we'll also be going over some important details concerning the treaty between us. I need my best jacket washed and ready by then, as well as my good boots spit polished." Arthur sighed. "I just hope that my ring turns up before then. I feel absolutely naked without it."

Merlin goggled at Arthur's bare hand, and then slowly his eyes roamed Arthur himself. The word 'naked' repeated itself over and over in his mind as he stared, and having seen Arthur in nothing but a towel (a small and tight towel) many times, he could easily picture just how Arthur looked without a stitch on.

Arthur snapped his fingers in front of Merlin's face. "Oi, are you listening to me, Merlin?"

"Yes, Sire." Merlin's cheeks burned. "I heard you."

"Well then, hop to it! I swear if you were any slower you'd be going backwards."

Merlin scoffed as he gathered up all the strewed objects on the floor, putting them back where they were. Arthur left the room, saying he was going to check on the guards or something, leaving Merlin alone to tidy up. It figured, Merlin snorted; the prince would make a mess and it was up to Merlin to clean up after him. He felt like a bloody maid (or, his mind supplied to him quietly: a wife).

"Thanks ever so much, your royal laziness…" Merlin trailed off as he opened the window in order to dump out a bucket of dirty water (it fell into a nearby manure cart, so no worries of hitting anyone), and stopped cold at the sight below.

Two guards were chasing after a suspicious looking character in a dark cloak. Merlin couldn't see the person's face, but he knew that lanky stature anywhere, not to mention that that was the same figure he'd seen roaming the market. The person was quite nimble on his feet, he noticed proudly. He cheered inwardly as he watched his doppelganger tip over a cart full of barrels of tar, tripping the guards as they tried to follow. As the figure ran through the square, pushing past people, he was soon lost within the crowd that was gathering. Then Merlin saw Arthur running across the yard to find out what was going on. One of the guards that got tripped stood awkwardly to explain.

This did not bode well. If his other self were to be captured and they figured out just who he was, not only was his self from the future in danger but so was he.

Merlin ran out of the room and tried not to seem too suspicious as he made his way down to the courtyard. Once there, he could hear the prince shouting orders to his knights and the royal guards.

"Close the gate! Don't let him escape!"

The guards obeyed as quickly as they could, but Merlin just noticed the figure slipping past one of the guards and rolling under the portcullis right before it closed. Merlin cheered aloud on accident, and upon seeing others stare at him peculiarly, he hastily changed his cheering to disappointment.

When Arthur was near, Merlin asked, "What happened?"

"The guards claim that it was a sorcerer, but there is no solid proof that he was. Probably just a thief or something. I'll have the guards on the lookout for him."

Merlin's heart hammered in his chest. "Do they know what he looks like?"

"They didn't get a good look, unfortunately. He had his hood up." Arthur ascended the steps, Merlin following him. "But I'm sure he'll show his face sooner or later."

Merlin hoped that he wouldn't; if his doppelganger was smart (ha! How ironic was that?), he'd stay clear of the castle now. If he were caught, who knew what would happen to him—to the both of them.

"Most likely a misunderstanding," Merlin said. "He may have been innocent."

"Don't be so quick to judge, Merlin," Arthur said. "That's how you can get yourself killed. Now go back to clearing my room and doing those things I asked you to do before you forget, again."

"Yes, Sire," Merlin sighed.

**

It wasn't until the next day that Merlin remembered he needed to buy a new pair of boots. He'd tried another spell on them last night to see if it would work, but so far nothing. So after doing as many chores as he could that afternoon, Merlin quickly went back down to the market, coin purse secured at the hip.

There were more guards out and about during this time of the day, questioning people and searching their houses. Merlin had an idea of just who they were looking for. He made it to the cobbler's without much fuss and continued with what he'd started yesterday: browsing for the right pair.

"Hello again, young Merlin," said the cobbler. "I was wondering if you'd show up today."

"Yeah, hi," Merlin said bashfully. "Sorry about my sudden disappearance yesterday, but, um—anyway, I'm still in the need of new boots." He stuck out his right foot in order to show the cobbler just how worn they were. "As you can clearly see."

"Yes, sir," the cobbler said. "I could always just mend them for you to save you a penny."

"How long would that take? These are my only pair."

"I would say about four or five hours. Maybe three if it's the usual routine."

In the end, Merlin opted to have his old boots repaired, so he ended up hanging around the shop to wait and watched other shoppers (he only wished he'd remembered to wear socks, but he hadn't had time to clean the ones he had yet thanks to his pile of chores). After almost an hour, he saw Gwen browsing a nearby cart full of girly trinkets and things. When she caught his eye, she smiled and he waved her over.

"Hey, Merlin," she said, grinning. She noticed his lack of foot attire. "Are you getting your boots mended?"

"Yeah. Just waiting on them now." He wiggled his toes. "Been here nearly an hour. Are you just having a look around and letting out wishful sighs again or actually buying stuff?"

"Mostly just browsing," she said, going pink. "I don't have enough to actually get much. I was thinking about something for my hair, though. I'll get paid again by the end of the week, that's why I'm debating on getting it now or later."

They talked for a good fifteen minutes until Merlin spotted something out of the corner of his eye. When he looked around, he noticed the familiar figure.

"Merlin?" said Gwen, giving him a strange look. "You okay? You look as though you've seen a ghost."

"I, what?" Funny, he didn't feel as if he'd gone pale. Maybe it was because of how big his eyes got when he realized he might have seen his other self. "Oh, um, no; I'm good. Just thought I saw something… um, I better go—"

"What about your boots?" Gwen called after him as he legged it down the street he'd seen his other self go. "Merlin!"

"Pick them up for me!" he yelled behind him. He'd already paid the cobbler so it wasn't like he was leaving her with the bill. Alas, this meant that he was barefoot now and there was a chance of him stepping on something sharp. But as he got closer to the running figure, he put on a burst of speed anyway; unfortunately, a few guards had noticed him as well as his doppelganger and they also took up the pursuit.

"Damn it," Merlin mumbled to himself. If he didn't catch up to his look-alike soon they might get into even more hot water. Then he saw that the street they'd gone down wasn't so empty after all; there were more than just two guards waiting for them at the end. He was sure that they hadn't planned on being there; it was merely a stroke of luck for Camelot's guards. He saw his doppelganger slow just a fraction, but Merlin didn't slow at all and he was almost at the other's back.

"There he is!" cried a guard, pointing toward them. Merlin and his future self gasped, and at the sound of Merlin gasping his doppelganger spun round in surprise.

"If we have any hope of getting out of this alive I suggest you run," Merlin said, and then he grabbed hold of his doppelganger by the elbow and turned him around the way they'd come. The other two guards chasing them stopped abruptly, nearly crashing into them, but then his doppelganger shouted something—a spell! Right in the middle of the market!—and the guards went flying. They raced, side-by-side, out of the street, knocking aside a few people on their way out.

"He's getting away!"

"He really is a sorcerer!"

"Hey, isn't that Merlin with the sorcerer?"

"Shite," both Merlin and his doppelganger said. He was about to say something, ask one of the questions that had been on his mind since the second time he'd seen his other self, but then he was suddenly pushed into a nearby trough of water. He came up, sputtering and swiping his wet hair out of his eyes, and could only watch as his doppelganger sped down the street with a horde of guards, and now knights, chasing him. Two guards grabbed him by the elbows and lifted him out of the trough, getting water everywhere.

"You're coming with us," one of the guards said, unperturbed that he got part of his legs wet.

"Shite," Merlin repeated, but with more heat. His doppelganger had just pushed him! Next time he saw himself he was going to give him a piece of his mind.

**

"What were you thinking?" Arthur yelled, arms folded, trying to look all menacing and kingly. The two armed guards stayed on either side of Merlin (who was still dripping wet and barefoot) as they stood in the middle of the throne room, which had been occupied by Arthur more and more each day. Uther was still not well enough to continue ruling the kingdom, so most things fell onto Arthur's shoulders now. "Wait, what am I saying? Of course you weren't thinking."

"Arthur, I can explain—"

"You will address me properly while we're in court, Merlin!" Arthur snapped. Merlin pursed his lips together, trying to look rightfully chastised but it was hard to kick old habits when around Arthur. "You were seen aiding and abetting the sorcerer in the market. I'd like a good explanation as to why, and it better be good, Merlin, or you're going to spend the next week in jail."

Merlin opened and closed his mouth as words failed him. What was he supposed to say? 'You see, Sire, that sorcerer was me from the future, so I thought he was in trouble'? He had a feeling that wouldn't go down real well.

"Well, Merlin?" Arthur said, tapping an impatient toe. "Nothing to say in your defense? You normally have a good excuse for the idiotic things that you do, so let's hear it."

Merlin bowed his head, unable to think straight. The only thing he could think of to say was: "I'm sorry, Sire. I—I didn't know he was a sorcerer, at first. I thought he was innocent, so I was trying to help—"

Arthur let out a long-suffering sigh and rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Merlin, it's like you really do have some sort of mental affliction. Well, seeing how in a few days we'll have Lord Claudas as our guest and I need attending to for that day, before and after the feast as well, then I'll just put you in the stocks for now. Next time you might not be so lucky."

Merlin should feel relieved not to be in the dungeons for what he'd done, but it still wasn't fair that Arthur was suddenly treating him like he was just a normal servant. They'd been through so much together he figured that Arthur would understand by now that whatever weird thing Merlin did, it was for the good of Camelot, and Arthur. He just hoped that Arthur wasn't letting his power go to his head.

**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sexual maneuver that is performed in here really is possible. As long as the person is skinny and bendy enough (and the penis is long enough) it can be accomplished.  
> Also, many thanks to my brother (pharaohx) for giving me the idea of how to not make this a death fic.

Doppelganger 2

 

**

While Merlin was in the stocks, still barefoot and damp and grumbling about what he'd do to his doppelganger once he got hold of him, Gwen crept toward him as if he really were some dangerous criminal. She looked somewhat angry, probably because he'd run off without an explanation, and even a little bit amused with his situation. When he raised an eyebrow, a signal that she should just spill what was on her mind, she held up his boots.

"They're finished," she said. "Shall I put them on you or just throw them at your head?"

"Yeah, I deserved that," he sighed.

"What were you thinking," she continued, sounding almost scarily like his mother, "helping a sorcerer escape? You're lucky Arthur didn't put you in the dungeons for life."

"I'm really sorry, okay?" Merlin said. "I just can't explain why…"

Gwen sighed. "Well, let's hope that you hadn't done any lasting damage. Here." She set his boots down by his feet. "You're lucky you'd already paid for them or the cobbler would have put them up for sale. And next time, Merlin, don't just take off like that. It was irresponsible."

Great, now he was getting lectured by Gwen. He didn't dare say anything, though, unless he really did want an imprint of his boots on his face.

After she'd left, and a couple children had come over to throw rotten cabbage and tomatoes at his head, night had fallen. He waited as patiently as he could to be let out of the stocks, but it wasn't until almost ten o'clock when they'd finally remembered him (either that or Arthur decided to let him stew for a bit more).

After donning his newly repaired boots, he went to see Gaius. He found the old man poring over more books, as if he'd been doing it since Merlin left that morning. Merlin didn't say a word as he tip-toed over to the water basin Gaius usually filled when he knew Merlin was put in the stocks, and began washing up. He could see his reflection in the near-stagnant water, and he stared at it for a couple seconds before shaking himself out of his reverie and sticking his hands in to break the surface.

"I heard what you did today," Gaius said. He didn't even have to raise his voice and it still made Merlin cringe with guilt.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

Gaius slammed the book closed and stood. "What were you thinking, boy?" he shouted, and Merlin was almost relieved to hear him shout. It meant that Gaius wasn't as angry as Merlin feared he'd be; if anything, Gaius sounded worried. "You're lucky that Uther hadn't been well enough to be in charge; you would have ended up locked in the dungeons, or worse!"

"I know," Merlin sighed. "I understand that it was a foolish thing to do."

"Rightly so," Gaius continued to berate. "What if you caused your future self to get captured, then what? You'd both be burned at the stake, that's what."

Merlin didn't think so; he didn't think Arthur would actually do that even if it was the law. Most likely he'd banish him—them—and even that wouldn't be favourable. As he washed the wilting lettuce out of his hair he thought maybe he'd actually helped his other self from getting arrested, but he was sure Gaius wouldn't see it that way no matter what he'd said. So he just kept quiet, continued to wash up, and let Gaius quietly seethe a bit longer.

"I hadn't found anything useful about time travel yet," Gaius replied a few minutes later when Merlin finished washing up. "But then, I haven't searched all my books."

"That's okay, Gaius, I'm sure we'll find something. I'm going to bed now, I'm knackered." Merlin yawned.

"Okay. Good night, Merlin."

"Good night, Gaius."

Freshly washed, he shucked off his wet shirt as he made his way to his room to change into his dry sleep clothes. Once inside, he was only paying attention to what he was doing and where he was going, getting undressed and toeing off his newly mended boots, which was why the moment he turned and came nose to nose with his other self he let out an unmanly shriek. The other him shouted in surprise and tumbled off the side of the bed.

"Merlin?" Gaius' worried voice came from the other side of the door. "Are you all right?"

"F-fine!" Merlin finally sputtered out, clearing his throat. "Just… just fine. I, uh, tripped over something and it startled me. Sorry."

He heard Gaius sigh in dismay. "Do be more careful next time, Merlin."

"Yes, Gaius," both Merlins said. Merlin jumped and glared at his other self, who was peeking over the top of the bed. His doppelganger gave him a sheepish grin and mouthed 'sorry'.

They waited in silence, listening to Gaius leave and get ready for bed. Merlin just continued to glare at his future self, but the other man didn't bat an eye, completely unaffected. He just raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. They both knew the signs of Gaius being in bed, and only waited a few more minutes before they could fully relax, hearing their mentor's snores.

He'd had plenty of questions he'd like to ask his self from the future, and they were at the tip of his tongue, but the first thing that came out of his mouth was:

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Future Merlin just chuckled lightly and then proceeded to lie back down on the bed. He folded his arms under his head and leaned back, almost in a cocky fashion.

"I can't tell you," he said. Merlin noticed how much older his future self looked; if he had a guess he'd say that this Merlin was in his mid-thirties. But then again, it could be because he was stuck here in the past. Which reminded him:

"Are you stuck here?"

"Stuck in here with you? Not really."

"No, I meant are you stuck in the past?"

"Oh," said Future Merlin. "Well, um." He coughed embarrassingly into his fist.

And that was when Merlin noticed: "Arthur's ring!"

Future Merlin quickly hid his hand behind his head again. "What?"

"You're the one that stole his ring," Merlin said through gritted teeth. "You better plan on giving it back."

"Oh, of course. I, uh, wouldn't dream of keeping what's rightfully Arthur's—" his doppelganger nearly choked on Arthur's name, his eyes wet and unfocused. That sent a warning bell off in Merlin's head.

"Oh no," he whispered. "Arthur's not… is something going to happen to Arthur? Is that why you're here?"

Future Merlin shrugged. "Something like that. Look, you shouldn't get yourself involved in any of this. Things would become too complicated if you tried to do it as well. I'll be just fine on my own."

"Do what, exactly? What are you planning?"

"Sorry, can't tell you."

Merlin ground his teeth in irritation. Although he really wanted to know what his future self was planning and wanted to help, he had a feeling that what his other self was saying was probably true. He, himself, couldn't get caught doing magic or helping this fugitive. He'd be fucked for sure.

"I know that look," his doppelganger said. "You want to help but you know you shouldn't. Trust me, I know how that feels. I am you, after all. How about you just keep a close eye on the prince and let me do my job? Once it's over, you won't have to worry about me anymore."

Merlin bit his bottom lip. He was so close to pulling his own hair out, too. His doppelganger was just so calm and collected, unlike he normally was in situations like this. Then again, this Merlin had probably been there done that. And whatever it was that endangered Arthur's life Merlin knew that he would do anything to keep Arthur safe.

"So, tell me, will I get to be in your shoes in a few years time? Do you remember having this conversation with yourself?"

Other Merlin blinked in surprise for a moment, and then gave him more of a sloe-eyed look. "It's not really my place to say, but I think by me going back in time and stopping something will change my future. Our future."

"Meaning?"

Other Merlin brought his hands back from behind his head and stared into his hands. "Meaning you, yourself, won't need to go back to the past. It would have already been corrected."

Merlin slowly moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed, still shirtless, barefoot, and ties on his trousers undone. He stared at a spot on the bed as he replied, "Then what does that mean for you?"

His doppelganger shrugged. "It means I may cease to exist. Well, actually, not really. I mean you're me, but you won't get to be me and have to deal with what I have dealt with, or will have to deal with. If that makes any sense."

"So, you might… die?" Merlin's eyes widened. "But, but that's—"

"Not fair? Yeah, I know." His doppelganger sighed. "But it doesn't matter if I go on living or not. My future is gone anyway. There's nothing left to look forward to." Subconsciously, he played with Arthur's ring on his thumb with his other hand, staring down at it almost wistfully.

That was when it hit him. "You and Arthur—your Arthur, I mean—were you two…?"

"Physically involved?" He chuckled, tone hollow. "Yeah, you could say that. Arthur finally got his head out of his arse to see what was in front of him all this time. We were together for only two days before he died."

"Two days…" Merlin felt choked up inside. His future self only had two days with his Arthur before Arthur was—"Oh, God, I'm so sorry…"

"Don't be. I'm the one that should be sorry. I'm the one that fucked it up! I'm the one—" He stopped when he realized that he was getting too loud, and they both cringed and listened carefully to see if it stirred Gaius. When they heard nothing for a long while they both let out a relieved sigh.

"Don't beat yourself up for it," Merlin said, voice lowered. "You being here to correct it is a brave thing to do; especially since you yourself might not exist after your mission is over."

His doppelganger sighed, staring down at Arthur's ring again. He still looked a bit upset, and Merlin wasn't sure what to say to make him feel better. He didn't know what his other self had gone through, so what did he know what was the appropriate thing to say? If only there was a way he could help; if he knew what his future self was planning—

Then, as he watched the other stretch out, legs long and torso lean, another thought struck him: "Oi, you're not planning on sleeping here, are you?"

His future self looked at him oddly for a few seconds and then laughed quietly. "Well, where else am I supposed to sleep?"

"Oh hell." Merlin stood to pace the room, and it was then that he remembered that he was still shirtless, and barefoot. "Um." He looked down at himself and blushed.

His doppelganger waved a dismissive hand. "Don't get all embarrassed. I've seen it all, haven't I?" He grinned.

"Er, yes, well…" Merlin rubbed the back of his head. "Still, our bed is rather small. How are we going to fit?"

Other Merlin wiggled his eyebrows in an unnecessarily suggestive way and moved onto his side, facing him. "Like this?"

"We're going to spoon?"

"Why not? It's not like we haven't touch ourselves before." His doppelganger winked.

Merlin went red again, but the older Merlin had a point. He shouldn't be getting all blushy over his own self. It should feel comfortable, shouldn't it? And anyway, this Merlin had been with Arthur and his heart no doubt belonged to Arthur, too. At least this way his other self wouldn't feel all alone without his prince.

"Fine, but watch the elbows."

"You should be the one watching the elbows."

"Shut up."

Merlin finished changing into drier sleep pants and slowly lay down beside his future self—and he really should stop thinking of him as either 'future self' or 'doppelganger' because it was becoming too confusing, even for himself. He turned his head and asked just that question.

"If it really is bothering you on what to call me then how about Emrys?"

"Er, sure. That'll work," Merlin said. "By the way, Emrys, why'd you push me in the trough?"

"To save our necks, obviously. If I hadn't, you would've got us caught and we'd both be in the dungeon awaiting our date with the pyre."

"No way. Arthur wouldn't do that."

"Maybe, maybe not," Emrys said, "but I assure you it wouldn't fix things. So just be glad that I did it."

"I was put in the stocks thanks to you."

"Shouldn't have tried to follow me, then."

"Arse."

"Spoiled brat."

"I am not!" Merlin turned to punch Emrys in the stomach, or somewhere that would hurt, but Emrys was expecting it and caught Merlin's arm easily and pushed him until he was on his back. Emrys straddled him and pinned his hands above his head.

"Better start toughening up or you won't make it in the future. Stop being so goodie-goodie all the time; don't let your heart do all the talking for you. That's what got me in this predicament in the first place."

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked, but the only answer he got was a kiss.

It should have been weird to kiss one's self, it really should have. But there was something oddly nice about it, comforting, and he found himself kissing back almost as feverishly as Emrys was kissing him.

Their clothes were swiftly removed by a whispered word from Emrys, and before Merlin could voice his surprise, their lips were locked again. They tongue wrestled a while, hands sliding over familiar planes, groping familiar skin and muscle, knocking into familiar angles, until finally Emrys settled the lower half of his body against Merlin's and their cocks brushed. Merlin's breath hitched and his hips thrust upward to feel more of that wonderful pressure, but Emrys held him steady.

"My first time," Emrys murmured against his skin, "was on all fours in Arthur's bed, hanging on to the headboard for dear life while Arthur took me hard and unrelenting from behind."

"Gods!" Merlin gasped. He could just picture it in his mind, and it made his cock twitch and spill pre-come. His grip on Emrys' shoulders tightened.

"I took his entire length like a good servant," he whispered into Merlin's ear, causing Merlin to shudder out a gasp. His hand trailed down Merlin's chest, pausing at one nipple to pinch and rub it before moving down again. Merlin wiggled beneath without restraint, eyes closed and head thrown back. He didn't stay embarrassed for long; bucking up into the other's hand as it wrapped around both cocks. Each ridge and bump the same; their sizes perfectly matched together. The hand around him was his own, but a bit more calloused, more mature. And when Emrys bent down to suck on his neck, it shouldn't have caused such a heated reaction, but it had. His balls tightened up, ready to burst, but Emrys knew and stopped him with a quick squeeze at the base.

Merlin whined embarrassingly high.

"Not yet," Emrys said. "First, you're going to know what it's like to have a cock filling you up, slamming into you hard and fast, before you nut one off into my mouth."

Although Merlin was past caring just how he got off, the last part threw him slightly. "Sorry, what?"

Emrys didn't explain; he just pulled Merlin's body until his arse was at the very edge of the bed, and spread Merlin's legs up high and wide. Merlin braced himself, head back, as he felt familiar, wet fingers probing him. He'd done this before, but never like this. Heat pooled even more into his belly, but he took a few deep breaths to steady himself.

Emrys was done opening him before he realized it, and then the blunt head of his cock nudged him gently before pushing forward. It was then that he realized that Emrys—his future self—was his first. He was taking his own virginity. That thought alone sparked something deep within him, and his hole was suddenly widening and allowing his older self to glide the rest of the way in.

"Such a cock slut," Emrys murmured against a sharp cheek. "How does that feel, my twin? Incredible, isn't it?" Merlin could only nod in reply, and Emrys licked around the shell of his ear, making him shiver. "Yeah, you like that too, don't you?"

Merlin tried to tighten his legs around those bony hips, but Emrys held fast and raised them higher. Emrys looked down, almost bent in half, to watch himself move in shallow thrusts. Then Emrys was bending even further down, and Merlin watched in fascination and arousal as his own long cock leapt magically from his stomach to stand straight up and point toward Emrys' face. Emrys smiled wickedly, glancing at Merlin beneath long, dark lashes, before inching his head down just a fraction to take the head of Merlin's cock between his lips.

A few more snaps of Emrys' hips up into him, across his prostate, and the suction of his mouth tightening and Merlin was coming. His cock pulsed long and hard over Emrys' tongue and the roof of his mouth, bits dribbling out of the corners. It became more slippery and escaped Emrys' mouth to finish splashing a strip up Merlin's stomach. Emrys licked his lips, swallowed, and then bent down to suck his mouth. Merlin moaned, Emrys' thighs shuttered, and he was being filled with warm, sticky seed.

They caught their breath for a moment before re-situating themselves on the bed. Merlin curled around Emrys' side, head on chest, and absentmindedly began playing with the hair he found on a pectoral. It was so odd to think that it was his own chest he was touching like this, but it also felt different. Merlin wondered if their differences in age had something to do with it.

Just as he was starting to drift off, Merlin remembered to ask: "Can you give me Arthur's ring? He'll be a right bastard if he doesn't get it back soon."

"Yeah, I suppose," Emrys replied after a moment. "Wouldn't do me any good if I kept it anyway."

They fell asleep; Emrys' finger still adorned with the prince regent's ring and Merlin's hand still resting on Emrys' heart.

**

The next morning, Merlin woke up alone. It was something he was used to doing, so his mind didn't catch up to the fact that he'd fallen asleep with another body last night until he was more awake. He couldn't worry about it at the moment, though, because he was running late with Arthur's breakfast, and Arthur was very cranky if he didn't get it around the same time every day.

Arthur was already out of bed when he got there. He gave Merlin an un-amused look the moment he walked in, and Merlin smiled at him sheepishly. What Emrys had said about him being with Arthur for two days before the alleged assassination almost brought him to a halt at the threshold. If what his future self said was true, then that meant he and Arthur were about to get very intimate very soon. He went pink around the ears just thinking about it.

"Breakfast," he said lamely, feigning nonchalance, and Arthur raised a brow as if to say 'no, really? I wouldn't have been able to figure that out myself, thanks for telling me, Merlin'.

When he finished helping Arthur dress for the day (trying to keep his mind from wandering to other carnal needs), and Arthur sat at the table to eat, Merlin poured him some water. Arthur looked up, a reflex, and then suddenly grabbed Merlin's wrist. The water jug fell out of his grip and onto the floor, spilling the remainder of its contents. Merlin felt himself grow warm from the sudden contact, Arthur's palm like a brand into his skin.

"You," Arthur nearly shouted, lifting Merlin's hand up between them, and there on his thumb was Arthur's ring. "You stole it!"

"No," Merlin said, outraged, and when Arthur gave him an incredulous look, as if he'd lied, he said quickly, "I found it, actually."

"And you were going to tell me when, Merlin? After breakfast or the day before the welcoming feast?"

"I—er, that is…" Merlin couldn't come up with some excuse. Damn his future self! Did he delight in making his life harder for some reason? He was him, so why would he do this to himself? And why was Arthur still holding onto his wrist like that, his gaze near-smoldering?

Before Merlin could come up with something clever, Arthur gently pulled the ring off Merlin's thumb and immediately stuck it on his own. "Just for that, you're to spend more time in the stocks. Just until lunchtime."

"Sire, no," Merlin tried, rubbing his wrist as if he were burned. "I was going to tell you I found it, honest. I just wasn't fully awake yet and I almost forgot…"

Arthur sighed, as if harried, and then said, "Fine. Not the stocks, then."

Merlin sighed in relief.

"You'll be my practice dummy this afternoon instead."

Merlin groaned, cursing his bad luck. The second he got hold of himself he'd definitely give him a piece of his mind, and then some.

**

Merlin dragged his feet into Gaius'chambers, dropping bits of armor and the helmet he'd been using onto the floor without a care. Gaius looked up from the book he'd been reading, glasses low on his nose, and smirked.

"Wishing you were put in the stocks?" he said.

Merlin gestured as if to say 'yeah, laugh it up old man', and Gaius did while Merlin slowly made his way to his room. He was going to sleep well tonight; for a week, if he could.

Upon entering, however, his bed was already occupied. Merlin sighed tiredly, wishing he had the energy to be angry, shuffled his feet over, and sat on the edge where Emrys had his legs bent. He studied the sleeping man, hair going gray around the temples, lips parted slightly and making soft breathing noises, lashes long and dusting over his cheeks. He felt just as tired as he looked. Which was another oddity that he realized: he was watching himself sleep. Well, an older looking him.

He was almost… cute.

No, he wasn't going to think that about himself. Er, about Emrys. It was supposed to be wrong to be so narcissistic, to look at one's self in the mirror or your reflection in the water and want to kiss yourself.

But that was it, wasn't it? He had kissed himself. He'd even shagged himself, and lost his virginity (and if he was honest, it was pretty damn good) to himself. With how Emrys had taken control and done such a brilliant job of it, he wondered if his Arthur had taught him a thing or two. He wouldn't be surprised if he did.

Yet, Emrys said he'd only been with his prince for two days before something happened to him. Which meant that he and Arthur were going to start something soon before… whatever it was that was about to happen. That Lord Someone was coming down soon; in about two days, Arthur had said. If that was true then what if that lord had something to do with it? Did that mean he (and Emrys) had only a couple days before Arthur was—

He didn't know that he'd even moved his hand onto the other's thigh, but suddenly his wrist was grabbed, startled out of his thoughts. He looked up to see that Emrys was awake, glaring at first, eyes almost wild, and then relaxed when he saw it was him.

"Oh, hi."

"Evening, lazy daisy," Merlin said, almost snarling. "Have a good nap while I'd been getting my arse handed to me?"

"Oh, right," Emrys sat up more, his leg touching Merlin's lower back. "Sorry. Time travel takes a lot of energy out of you." Emrys suddenly glared. "You didn't hear me say that."

"No, of course not. Your secret's safe with me," Merlin quipped. "Oh, and thanks for slipping Arthur's ring on me without my knowledge; he was quite pleased to see that I was the one who stole it."

Emrys' expression softened, and then he smiled and pulled Merlin down to lay beside him. Merlin went willingly, because he was too damn tired to argue. As he curled around Emrys, hands balled up against a firm chest, head resting on a steady arm beneath him, Emrys' hand gently moved up and down his back and his lips were smattering kisses along Merlin's forehead, cheeks, nose, and then a few presses to his lips. Merlin sighed, content and comforted as he slowly slipped into an easy doze.

**


	3. Chapter 3

**

In the morning, Merlin wasn't one bit surprised to find that he was alone again. It was nearing dawn, which meant that he'd be late if he didn't hurry and retrieve Arthur's breakfast now. He wasn't in the mood to put up with Arthur's grouchiness. He'd had an odd dream about him and Emrys dancing naked in the throne room, Arthur on the throne and watching with a yearning gleam in his eyes. It had ended with him and Emrys putting on some sort of mock sex show, Emrys' erect cock sliding along the top of his arse. Sure enough, when Merlin looked down, he was hard. Mortified, Merlin hastily dressed and slipped on his boots.

Which, after walking a few steps out of his room and toward the kitchens, he noticed were not actually his newly mended boots. These felt almost as worn out as his boots had been before the cobbler had repaired them. It seemed that Emrys had taken his boots by mistake. Or had it been a mistake? Guess he really had ended up in Emrys' shoes; just not the way he'd thought.

When Merlin arrived with Arthur's usual breakfast, Arthur had just sat up in bed, hair standing on end and eyes lidded.

"Good morning, Sire," Merlin said, a bit of cheer in his voice. "Breakfast is served." He set the plate down on the table and then automatically went to the window to drawn back the curtains, like he normally did every morning.

Arthur shielded his eyes from the light and groaned. "Must you be so bloody cheerful every morning?"

"Wouldn't want to make you more of a grump in the morning than usual, Sire," Merlin quipped easily. "I hear cheerfulness can be contagious so I thought I'd spread it to my favorite person."

Arthur eyeballed him strangely for a couple seconds and then got out of bed and went to the changing screen. Merlin thought for sure that Arthur would banter with him, but peculiarly he'd stayed silent. Per usual, Merlin helped him pick out what to wear for that day, handing bits of clothing to him over the top of the screen.

"So," Arthur started suddenly as he made himself decent enough to leave the screen but still shirtless, "I heard from Cook that you've been snacking at the oddest hours of the day, and even night."

"What?" Merlin said, goggling. He didn't recall doing any snacking; he barely had enough time to eat during his normal hours, and said as much to Arthur, but Arthur wasn't convinced.

"So it wasn't you they saw pinching a few biscuits, buns, and pastries?"

"Er, well—"

"And it wasn't you that ate nearly half a roast chicken before washing it all down with a jug of mead?"

"Arthur, I—" Merlin began, but then it hit him: Emrys! He was going to strangle the idiot the moment he set eyes on him again!

Arthur strode closer to him and poked his belly. "You better watch it, Merlin, or you'll actually gain weight. Might look funny sporting a pot belly with the rest of you being all skinny. I suppose it's a good thing that you had all that exercise last night. Don't want you getting any lazier than you've already been." For a second, Arthur's serious look turned into an amused smile. It was a small one, but a smile nonetheless, and it made Merlin smile back almost against his will.

There was still something niggling in the back of his mind, though. How did Cook mistake Emrys for him? Wasn't Emrys aging thanks to being stuck in the past? Or what if—Merlin then suddenly remembered that there was more than just the aging spell in his book: there was also a de-aging spell (which during his time of need hadn't worked, but it was still there). Perhaps Emrys had been using that while still here. Maybe that was why he'd been in his room those times (other than having a kip), and why—Merlin remembered again with a shock—his pile of dirty clothes and other junk on top of the book's hiding spot had been rearranged. Merlin had deliberately kept those items under his bed to discourage anyone from even going under there, and it had worked so far, but of course his future self would know its whereabouts and most likely had been using it.

But why didn't Emrys just come to him for help? He was him after all. Why couldn't they team up? Surely he knew that Merlin would do anything to protect Arthur, so why wasn't he letting him in on his plan? There might be a reason, perhaps a very good reason, but it still stung nonetheless. It was almost as if Emrys didn't trust him, and that hurt more than he thought.

Arthur was still staring at him, this time more peculiarly than before, and Merlin blinked out of his rumination when Arthur snapped his fingers in front of his face.

"Back from visiting the fairies, then? Good, because in about two days time Lord Claudas should be here and you need to help the other servants get things ready. I hope you remembered to clean my best shirt and cape for the occasion. Don't dilly-dally about in the kitchens, don't bother Cook, and for Heaven's sake get your boots mended. You look like I don't pay you."

Merlin took a deep, calming breath, a tic developing in his right temple.

**

The rest of the day went by uneventfully until Merlin found the time to go back to the cobbler's to see about his boots. Needless to say, the cobbler was very confused to see Merlin's boots were almost back to the way they were before he'd mended them last time.

"What have you been doing to wear your boots out so fast, young Merlin?" the cobbler teased, even if he were still perplexed. "You're not going to suggest that I've done a shabby job, are you?"

Merlin shook his head, expression sincere. He knew that the cobbler was picky about doing a good job and rarely did his customer's footwear fray so easily or quickly. It also made Merlin pause in thought; surely if Emrys was him from the future then he should have had his own boots mended as well. Why were Emrys' boots still worn? It couldn't be because he was in the past; otherwise, the rest of his clothes would look ragged. Perhaps Emrys was from more than a year into his future, and if that was true then why had it taken so long for him to decide to come back to this time and save Arthur?

The cobbler was staring at him expectantly, and when Merlin remembered he'd been asked a question, he put on an apologetic grin and said, "I'm sorry; uh… fact is that these aren't the boots that you've mended for me. These are someone else's."

"Then why aren't you wearing your boots?" the cobbler said, squinting one eye at him.

"Um, there was a mix up. It's hard to explain." Merlin put on his best innocent look, and fortunately for him it had worked. The cobbler sighed irritably but agreed to fix his boots, again. What did he care? Merlin thought; he was getting paid to mend his boots a second time.

It didn't take as long as it did last time (the boots weren't as bad as his other pair), so his wait was thankfully shorter. As he neared the courtyard, however, a raging Arthur was running down the steps and the moment he saw Merlin walking toward him he pivoted slightly so he could grab Merlin by the scruff. Merlin let out an indignant, "Hey! What?" but Arthur didn't stop as he dragged Merlin back up the stairs and toward the kitchens.

"First, you're going to apologize to Cook and then to Mary, and then you'll get your sorry arse over to the stables and muck it out until it's spotless. Do I make myself clear?"

Merlin gaped, mouth working as his brain tried to catch up with what Arthur was saying. "Wait, why do I have to apologize to Cook? What did I do? And why am I being punished for something that I have no recollection of?"

"Quit playing dumb, Merlin! You know what you did, and if you use the excuse of being my manservant one more time to them, I will have you thrown in the stocks for an entire day."

Merlin really couldn't defend himself as he had an inkling of just who it actually was that did whatever bad thing it was that he supposedly had done. It was really beginning to grate on his nerves.

Once there, Cook immediately bopped Merlin on the head with a metal ladle and chewed him out for a full ten minutes before he could even sputter out his apology. When he was made to apologize to Mary, one of the royal bakers, she was more polite about it, waving it away as if it were no big deal, and that she thought Merlin was sweet (something about kissing her cheek when he made off with a couple strawberry tarts). Apparently, Emrys had nicked some specially made loaves of bread and tarts that were being saved for Arthur and the other nobles, and some of the freshly picked vegetables for the stew she was going to make for the welcoming feast.

Then Arthur dragged him out of the kitchens and ordered him to go muck out the stables. "And if you're not done by the time you have to serve me my dinner, those loaves are coming out of your pay."

Merlin wondered if killing Emrys would be considered suicide or murder.

**

Emrys tried the door to Arthur's chambers to find it locked. He checked to make sure nobody was in the hallway before quietly removing the spare keys from beneath his shirt and unlocked the door. He slipped in as silent as a cat, shutting the door behind him inaudibly.

He wasn't even sure why he'd decided to come here in the first place. He knew it was a bad idea, but he couldn't stay away. He missed his Arthur something fierce, and as he stood there in Arthur's bedroom, his heart squeezed painfully in his ribcage, his throat was raw, and his eyes stung. He didn't know how long he stood there, gazing wistfully at the bed (he almost sat on it) when the door behind him opened. He turned automatically, his mind still set in the past and smile ready to spring at the sight of his Arthur that when he saw present day Arthur it sent a chill down his spine and not the usual happy fluttering in his chest he normally got. It was like seeing a ghost, or a punishing dream; it was nothing like how he'd imagined seeing Arthur again.

"Merlin?" Arthur said, shocked to see him in his room. Emrys understood why; he—Merlin—was supposed to be down at the stables. The only difference in appearance right now between himself and present Merlin were the boots and his neckerchief (red), although he doubted Arthur actually paid attention to the colour and when he regularly changed them.

"Arthur," Emrys murmured, as if he really were in a dream. He wasn't sure if his heart could take much more torture.

"What in the seven hells are you doing here?" Arthur shouted. His eyes were blazing with suppressed anger. "You're supposed to be out there," he jabbed a finger toward the window, "mucking out the stables! And how the hell did you get here before me?"

Emrys had no answer, because he knew that anything he'd say Arthur wouldn't believe. He opted to remain silent, to keep the tears at bay, while Arthur continued his rant.

"Nothing to say?" Arthur growled. "Nothing? Not even one little, pathetic excuse? I know you have one, Merlin, so let's hear it. I warn you, though; you've been trying my patience lately. Stealing from Cook, not tending to your regular duties, demanding to be treated with respect all because you're my manservant; I have a kingdom to run, Merlin, I don't need to be watching you every second of—"

Emrys didn't know what had come over him, his emotions suddenly quick to the surface; didn't know why he suddenly launched himself at Arthur and pressed his lips to his. Call it masochism, call it loneliness, call it what you want but he'd done it. The moment Arthur pushed him away, eyes wide, he knew that it had been a mistake.

Yet, for a second or two, he could have sworn he'd felt Arthur kiss him back. Arthur was still Arthur, after all.

"What the hell, Merlin?" Arthur demanded loudly. Emrys shrank back, because even though he'd learned to harden his heart, Arthur was still his greatest weakness.

"I, uh… should go, muck out the stables. Yeah, that's it. Bye." Emrys ran. He was truly ashamed of himself for running, for acting like a coward, but he knew that if he stayed things would only become worse. He couldn't afford to jeopardize his plan by falling into bed with Arthur now (which he knew would have eventually happened). He should have kept lying low until the appointed time, but his damn heart made its appearance again and now things were more mucked up than the royal stables. "Just had to see the prince's chambers again, hadn't you, Merlin?" Emrys reprimanded himself. "What have I told you about listening to your heart? It only gets you into trouble."

His feet brought him straight to the stables, and the prince was still hot on his heels; which was really no surprise.

"Merlin, stop! I'm ordering you!"

Emrys ducked inside, found an empty horse stall with a large mound of hay, and hid himself in it. Just in time too, because when Merlin heard the door to the stables open, and then suddenly a stall door, he turned around. Arthur burst into the door seconds later, only slightly winded, eyes searching until they landed on Merlin.

"All right, what the bloody hell are you playing at?" Arthur demanded.

Merlin stood there, dumbfounded, hands still clutching the shovel handle. "Um, you told me to muck out the stables?"

"You're deliberately doing this to get out of work, aren't you?" Arthur pointed a threatening finger in Merlin's face.

"Doing what?"

"Don't act stupid, Merlin, you know what!" Arthur was seething, Merlin could see that. What he didn't understand was why.

"You told me to muck out the stables, so here I am doing just that, and you were only gone for a few minutes before you came in bellowing at me for no good reason."

"No good reason!" Arthur's voice went high at the end of his sentence, face bright red. "You just kissed me!"

Merlin's eyes grew twice their size, almost owl-like, as he gawked at Arthur. He opened his mouth to deny Arthur's allegation when it dawned on him who it actually had been that kissed Arthur. How the hell was he supposed to defend himself?

"Oh, I, uh…" He licked his lips involuntarily.

"Quit playing innocent now, Merlin," Arthur said, and Merlin could have sworn that he was leering. "I want to know why you've been acting strange lately, and it better be a good explanation or you'll be spending time in the stocks again."

What was Merlin to say? He couldn't tell him the truth; otherwise, it might get him and Emrys burnt at the stake. Although a part of him doubted that Arthur would actually burn him for having magic. He and Arthur had been through too much together for Arthur not to care about his well-being (that was what he kept telling himself, but still he was afraid to tell Arthur what he really was).

Arthur sighed, impatient that his manservant was taking so long in explaining things (or more than likely trying to come up with an excuse), and he grabbed Merlin by the scarf—which Arthur just noticed was a completely different colour (grey) than the one he'd seen Merlin wear in his rooms, and it also had a bit of dirt on it—and pulled him in for a kiss.

Merlin was so shocked to feel the wet press of the prince's mouth on his that he lost his footing and would have dragged them down into a pile of manure if it weren't for the shovel and Arthur's strong grip holding them up. The kiss lasted less than a minute before Arthur was shoving him away as if it'd been Merlin that had initiated things. Merlin could only stare, dumbfounded, as Arthur glared half-heartedly, lips slightly swollen.

"Don't look so stunned, I'm only returning the favor. Now, if you don't straighten up your act I'll have to stick you in the dungeons where you can think about your actions. However, if you're a good boy I may just let you lie in bed with me."

Merlin's lips parted a fraction as he could only stare. He couldn't get any words out, a lump lodged in his throat.

Arthur tilted his head as if he were a dog trying to hear a high pitched noise. "Did you get that, Merlin? Do not"—Arthur pushed Merlin's forehead with the tips of his fingers—"I repeat, do not disappoint me."

They stared at each other in silence for nearly a minute before the sound of the stable door opening and closing startled them. They turned as one to look at the door, but there was no one there; they were alone. Which, of course, meant that someone had been inside already while they were talking (and, oh God, kissing!). Merlin looked at Arthur sideways, and seconds later Arthur looked back at him. Whoever it had been more than likely seen and heard everything. 

"I'm sure that whoever that was won't say anything," Merlin tried to assure his worried looking prince.

"Of course they won't," Arthur said, actually agreeing with him. "They wouldn't dare tell anyone what they'd heard; otherwise, they will spend a week in jail."

"Yes, Sire," Merlin smirked. "I'm sure they're properly afraid of you."

"Quite right." Arthur nodded. They shared a moment of amusement as they kept their eyes on each other, and then when Arthur realized that he'd been staring and having another good moment with Merlin, his smile faded and he looked away. "Now get back to work. A bath and a soft bed just might be waiting for you when you're done."

It was the exact kind of incentive Merlin needed.

**

True to Arthur's word, Merlin saw that the tub was filled with warm water and waiting for him the moment he opened Arthur's chamber door. The servant who had been the one to prepare the bath was just leaving, bowing low to Arthur and exited behind Merlin with a couple empty buckets in hand. Merlin, dirty and tired, watched the servant go before bringing his gaze back over to the tub and then slowly up to Arthur.

"I kept my promise," Arthur said, gesturing toward the steaming bath. "Just don't use up all my soap."

"Thank you, Sire," Merlin said, forcing his voice to work.

Arthur waved the gratitude away as if it were no big deal, and then turned and made his way over to his desk. "Remember to change behind the screen, and cover yourself with a towel. I have some paperwork I need to finish up and I don't need you distracting me."

Merlin understood the meaning behind the prince's words, and he didn't want to waste time. He undressed behind the screen as fast as he could, wrapped a towel around his hips, and quickly made his way to the tub without looking at Arthur. He knew that if he did, he'd see Arthur staring after him. If he locked gazes with him now he knew he'd make quite the tent in the towel. When Merlin hurriedly removed it from his waist, his back to Arthur, he heard a soft intake of breath from behind. Flushed from his ears to his chest, Merlin stepped into the water.

It wasn't often when Arthur allowed Merlin to use his tub to bathe. He could count the times he had on one hand. It was a rare luxury, but something about the way Arthur allowed it this time seemed different. After scrubbing most of his upper half and then washing his hair and face, Merlin finally looked up to see that Arthur had, indeed, been staring. When he was caught, Arthur quickly went back to his work as if he hadn't just been gawking at his own manservant. Merlin wasn't fooled, but he figured the best thing to do was pretend not to have noticed. Arthur would only deny it anyway.

Once he cleaned the rest of his body, Merlin carefully got out of the tub and wrapped the towel around his hips again. He was proud to have only spilled one-forth of the wash water this time. Shivering, Merlin swiftly moved toward the changing screen again.

"You're not going to wear your old clothes again, are you?" Arthur asked, startling Merlin so much he almost toppled backward.

"Um, well, I hadn't brought a change of clothes."

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "Obviously. Only you, Merlin." He sighed tiredly. "Right. Don't worry about it now; just dry off and then get under the sheets."

"Uh, what?" Merlin was sure he was making his owl impression again, but he couldn't help it. He didn't think Arthur had been serious when he'd mentioned lying in bed with him.

"You heard me, Merlin. You're dripping all over the floor. Hurry and dry yourself by the fire." Arthur lifted a piece of parchment he'd been writing on and blew on it, powder flying into the air.

"Right, of course," Merlin said, and then obeyed and sat himself in front of the fire, which was roaring high and strong. The servant that had filled the tub must have also tended the fire. In fact, from what Merlin could gather, everything that Merlin usually did for Arthur had been done already.

Merlin didn't know for how long he'd sat in front of the fire (trying to wrap his head around everything that had been happening), droplets running down his skin from his hair, wetting the bearskin rug beneath him, and he didn't know Arthur was standing beside him until a gentle finger lifted his chin. Merlin shuddered from the contact, and shocked by the sudden appearance of Arthur. He inhaled sharply at the simple touch of lips on his. Merlin could taste sweet wine mixed with honeyed ham and apples in the kiss.

When Arthur had him on his back on the fur rug, mouth trailing a hot line down his chest, legs on either side of Arthur's torso, he asked, "How long?"

"Hmm?" Arthur said, not stopping in his torturous kisses, hand hard and rough down his flank.

"How long have you wanted me, Arthur? Because I think I've been ravenous for months."

Arthur raised his head, eyes shining in the way Merlin had seen only after having won a tournament.

"It has been too long," Arthur admitted softly. "As prince regent I'm not supposed to have these feelings for my manservant. I'm supposed to be worrying about affairs of state, not affairs of the heart."

Merlin smiled before he could stop himself. "Sire, are you saying that you—"

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur then peeled the towel off Merlin's waist. Merlin's stiff and proud cock greeted him with a twitch and presented a bead of come to its lordship. It was more compliant than its owner, it seemed.

Merlin let out an embarrassing squeak when Arthur dragged his tongue up the underside of Merlin's cock, and swirled around the tip to gather up the glossy offering. He dipped his tongue into the hole of Merlin's cock head, delighted in Merlin's reaction, and did it again to get a repeat performance.

It being Arthur's first time lying with another man, his touches were more experimental and curious yet placid. He gave a lot of attention to the head, probing the hole at the top now and again for more of its sweet fluid (Merlin ate more fruits and vegetables than meat), before descending the shaft to nuzzle and lick at the base all while keeping a gentle hold. Then, without warning, Arthur raised himself up and closed his mouth over the head. Merlin's toes curled, his stomach quivering. Arthur took him in deeper and deeper, his mouth so wet and warm, so wonderful despite Arthur's slight clumsiness. Merlin could forgive him, forgive the teeth lightly scraping, because even if it was the first time Arthur's done this it was still one of the best blow jobs he'd had in a long while.

At the whispered sound of Arthur's name, a desperate plea, Arthur swiftly got up, taking Merlin with him. Merlin gasped; one minute he'd been lying there enjoying Arthur's mouth on him and the next he'd been swept up into Arthur's arms, but he didn't complain; if he had to put up with being treated like some damsel in distress in order to have sex with Arthur, then so be it. He wasn't about to be picky. He wrapped his arms around Arthur's wide shoulders, nose nuzzled into the crease between Arthur's arm and chest, practically giddy.

Merlin was on his back in the bed for only a few minutes, lips barely leaving Arthur's, hands busy helping the prince undress. Then he was forced to turn over, get on his knees and brace himself against the headboard. Merlin widened his stance to let Arthur slot into place behind him, and pressed his forehead against it. Arthur's hand slowly ran down Merlin's naked back, down his hips, buttocks, and finally stopping between his legs. Arthur nudged at Merlin's hole with a finger, palm pressed into the top of his arse, and Merlin whimpered.

"Hand me that," Arthur demanded, pointing at something sitting on the bedside table. Merlin hadn't noticed the jar of oil before; one of the servants must have brought it in, and that had Merlin blushing as he obeyed. Arthur had known they were going to do this; nay, Arthur planned it, and it was all thanks to Emrys kissing Arthur. If Merlin knew that all it took was a kiss to get Arthur's attention then he'd have done it long ago.

Wet, cold fingers pushed their way inside, and Merlin clamped down around them instinctually. He continued to hold himself steady best he could, shaking ever so slightly, body humming with sexual energy. Although Arthur wasn't technically his first, he still considered him as the first person he slept with. While he braced himself against the headboard, thighs flexing and pushing back against Arthur's fingers, he recalled what Emrys had whispered into his ear: My first time was on all fours in Arthur's bed, hanging on to the headboard for dear life while Arthur took me hard and unrelenting from behind. His heart beat just a little faster.

Arthur took his damn time in stretching him, and Merlin almost shouted 'Get on with it, I'm not a virgin!' but then had to bite his lower lip as Arthur suddenly replaced his fingers with the blunt head of his cock. It slid in faster than either of them anticipated. Merlin stifled a gasp, breathed in deeply and let it out slowly through his nose.

"I can take it," Merlin said through gritted teeth. Arthur's breath hitched, hands hot on Merlin's hips as he pressed his fingertips into his skin.

"Just remember," Arthur said, leaning down to cover his back, mouth pressed to Merlin's ear, "you asked for it."

Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin's middle, and did a couple test thrusts before going stallion on him. Merlin could dispute the allegory easily if anyone were to disagree, because he'd seen a few of Arthur's prized horses mating more times than he'd cared to. After a few aimless prods in their search for the mare's heat, those stallions would push in deep, stay deep, and then thrust hard and shallow as the mare snorted and lowered her head.

Merlin was no mare, but he puffed and hung his head, his hole throbbing with a pleasant ache. His knuckles went white as he gripped the headboard harder, pushing back to meet Arthur's visceral rutting. Merlin panted, trying to keep his breathing even while Arthur grunted and made guttural groans, drawing nearer to climax. Merlin clenched harder and Arthur moaned in surprise, legs shaking, and suddenly Merlin was filled with Arthur's release. Merlin's own cock hung heavy between his legs, untouched. He brought a hand down to finish himself off. Arthur, like any normal male, lay in a sweaty, motionless heap over Merlin's back, cock finally softening and slipping out of Merlin. Arthur was hot, sweaty and heavy, but Merlin couldn't care less; it was a blissful feeling he found he actually enjoyed, and he came hard as Arthur's semen dribbled down his thighs.

When Arthur was finally off, lying on his back, Merlin fell face down into the pillow next to him. After catching his breath, Merlin turned his head and said, "You've been taking lessons from Hengroen, haven't you—ow!"

"Shut up, Merlin."

***


	4. Chapter 4

**

It was nice and warm. That was the first thing Merlin noticed as he gradually stirred from sleep. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept this well, so it became a battle to wake fully. He knew he had to get up and get Arthur his breakfast, else Arthur would be grouchier than old Mr. Simmons after the pigs got out (that had been Will's fault, and Merlin would continue to insist that until the day he died). His body, however, did not want to move. He was too comfortable, too warm and cozy to even think of leaving the bed. But as it neared dawn, Merlin had to relent else he'd regret it, so he tried to sit up. He failed.

It wasn't because he was too tired to move, it was because there was a weight draped across him. He was half covered by another body—a heavier, bulkier body—and when he turned his head to the left his nose made contact with a longer, more regal one. Arthur. The prince slept on, undisturbed by Merlin's slight movement. Up-close Merlin could see every freckle below Arthur's eyelashes and every small imperfection marring his face. Merlin smiled, unable to contain it, and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Arthur's forehead.

Merlin heaved Arthur's arm off him as careful as he could, but it wasn't easy. Arthur mumbled something in his sleep, eyebrows knitted. Gently, Merlin extracted himself from Arthur. It wasn't something he wanted to do, but it had to be done. Going by Arthur's expression, he'd guess Arthur didn't want him to go either (as if he could sense Merlin was leaving in his sleep). Well, thought Merlin, it was either he get up now or Arthur would go without breakfast. He put on his old trousers, but slipped on one of Arthur's clean shirts. Surely the prince wouldn't mind too terribly.

He was able to get down to the kitchens and retrieved the prince's breakfast without much incident. Only Mary had smiled at him when he entered, and Merlin greeted her with a kiss on the cheek (he figured he might as well since Emrys had already done so), and Mary repaid him with a flirty swat to his arse as he left. He was pleased with himself because he hadn't been this early in months.

When Merlin walked back into Arthur's chambers he was only concentrating on balancing the tray with one hand and carrying the jug of water with the other, so he hadn't noticed that Arthur had removed the blankets from his naked body while he'd been away.

"Morning, Sire," he said cheerfully. "Breakfast is read—"

The words died in his throat when his eyes landed on Arthur. He gaped, eyes huge.

"Quit looking like a gutted fish, Merlin, and get your skinny arse over here," Arthur demanded, snapping his fingers with impatience. "Now."

Merlin swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing. "Oh. Yes, Sire."

Falling into bed with Arthur was suddenly one of the easiest things to do. It was like a veil had been lifted from his eyes, and now all he saw was Arthur Pendragon, his prince and future king. He forgot all about the worries that had been plaguing him the moment he felt Arthur's arms around him, drag him down onto the bed, and latching his lips onto his neck. Merlin tilted his head, spread his body out on the mattress, and moaned aloud when he felt Arthur's weight over him once more. Although he knew Arthur would need to marry and make an heir, he knew somehow, deep down, that they'd always been more than just master and servant. Arthur was always going to be a part of his life no matter what.

Arthur didn't prepare Merlin long, only poked two fingers in and out for a minute before he deemed it well enough to breach with his cock. Merlin hissed, the pain sharp but slight, and opened his legs wider for his prince. Arthur took it as an invitation to hook Merlin's ankles behind his head. Merlin gasped.

"This is the most amenable I've seen of you yet," Arthur teased while he pushed, seating himself fully. "Maybe I should lie with you every morning."

"Oh, bugger off, you—aah—" 

Arthur interrupted him in the only way he knew how in this situation, and Merlin decided he didn't mind all that much.

**

"Merlin, you better get up before Arthur comes looking for you. You know how much he dislikes not being woken up at the right time every morning." Gaius knocked on Merlin's bedroom door. "Merlin, are you awake yet?"

"Yeah, Gaius, I'll be right there!" came the sound of the young man's voice through the door.

"Well, hurry up," Gaius said. "Come eat your breakfast before it gets cold, and then you need to practically run to get Arthur's breakfast on time."

A minute after Gaius had walked away from the door to sit and eat his own breakfast, it opened to reveal a yawning Emrys. Gaius gave him the eyebrow, and Emrys nearly told him then and there who he really was. He couldn't risk it, though, so he said nothing and continued to pose as his younger self.

"You look a little worn out, Merlin," Gaius said as Emrys took his time sitting at the table. "Are you getting enough sleep?"

"I'm fine," Emrys mumbled, groggily lifting a spoonful of gruel to his mouth. "Just having troubles waking up fully."

"Seems to be more than just that," Gaius continued to badger. "You almost seem as if you'd… aged. Your eyes look more… I dunno. Wise."

"Oh, er, do they?" Emrys said tersely. "Thanks for the compliment, Gaius. Uh, I better go and get breakfast for Arthur. Talk to you later." He stood, almost tipping over his bowl in his haste, and ran for the door.

"Merlin, what—" Gaius started, and he was about to call him back and demand he tell him what was wrong when a sudden thought struck him. The older look in Merlin's eyes, the additional lines on his face, and his shady behavior all add up to the fact that that hadn't been his Merlin he'd talked to and shared a breakfast with but the one from the future. Gaius nearly fell over in his shock. "Oh, goodness!"

If that was the Merlin from the future then where had his Merlin gone?

**

Merlin was, in fact, still blitzed out on Arthur's bed when Arthur finished eating breakfast and dressed. Arthur checked himself in his mirror, fixing details, which were supposed to be Merlin's job, while Merlin himself continued to feel as if he had just been sat on by a dragon.

"Come on, Merlin, get up. I have a kingdom to run and knights to train."

Merlin groaned feebly. "I think you broke me."

Arthur threw his head back and laughed wholeheartedly. Merlin couldn't believe it; Arthur was laughing at him! This was a serious situation in which Merlin might not be able to move therefore couldn't perform his duties, yet Arthur laughed.

"Perhaps a quick shag in the morning wasn't such a good thing after all," Arthur chuckled. "Especially if it makes you even lazier."

Merlin was tempted to make a rude hand gesture, but he was too exhausted. Seeing how much he really had broke Merlin, Arthur said, "All right, since you've been an adequate servant this morning I'll let you have a lie-in, but don't forget that you need to help prepare for the welcoming feast tomorrow. I need to look my best and I can't do that if my good clothes are in tatters. Don't sleep all day, or there will be consequences."

"Yes, Sire," Merlin sighed.

**

Nothing unusual happened for a while after Merlin finally got up and went about his daily routine. He decided to bring a few of Arthur's shirts to mend, as well as his cape to wash, to his room so that he could get them done. If he finished early he might get to sneak in another nap.

Down at the training grounds, however, Arthur was being shown just how infallible a man he was by Gwaine. Although Arthur was quite proud of his knights, Lancelot and Gwaine especially, he was beginning to get annoyed with his own performance against them. His knights had, unfortunately, noticed, and when Arthur called for a short break Gwaine took the opportunity to ask:

"Something wrong, Sire?"

Arthur shrugged it off with, "I'm perfectly fine, Sir Gwaine. Don't mollycoddle me."

Which of course wasn't a very kind, or kingly, thing to say to one of his best knights, but Gwaine took it in stride knowing that something was definitely bothering his young sovereign. He followed Arthur to the edge of the training grounds, both of them not paying much attention to what was in front of them until Arthur looked up and came face to face with Emrys.

Not knowing there were two Merlins running around Camelot right now, Arthur stared at "Merlin" in amazement (and a little bit of relief) to see him standing there. Emrys stared back with a look Arthur had never seen on Merlin before, but decided not to worry about it. It was only natural that Merlin should have such emotion in his eyes now, and even though Arthur had felt deeply for Merlin ever since he could remember, he knew how to hide it better. It was getting harder and harder to do so now, though, since the first time they had entwined, but he wasn't raised a prince for nothing.

"Finished with your morning chores already, Merlin?" Arthur said. "You're showing exceptional skills as a manservant today."

Emrys handed him a towel, which he remembered doing for his Arthur after practices. It was just like the old days, and for a moment it felt as if nothing had changed, that his Arthur was still here with him, taking his offered towel and smiling at him so warmly. His heart thudded harder when their fingers brushed, and he smiled back.

"Nearly done, Sire," Emrys said cryptically. "Big event tomorrow, yeah?"

"As I've said this morning, yes," Arthur said, eyeing him queerly. "Have I broke your brain as well, Merlin?"

Emrys lifted an eyebrow, which threw Arthur somewhat. It was rare to see Merlin do such a thing these days, but then again their relationship had taken a bit of a turn since last night. Perhaps Merlin felt he was privileged to use the Gaius eyebrow on him now.

"I don't know what you mean, Sire," Emrys said.

Gwaine, Arthur realized, was still standing there, staring at them as if watching a very interesting play. Arthur cursed himself for letting even that much of his private love life made public. It was just Gwaine, but still… the rest of the knights might be told by dinnertime if he didn't bite it in the bud now.

"Never mind," Arthur said. "Hand me my mace."

Emrys obeyed without question, and their fingers brushed again. This time Arthur let them linger, eyes still boring through Emrys'. When Gwaine coughed, it pulled Arthur back to where they were and he turned away.

"Okay, Sir Gwaine, time to show me just how flexible you really are. You won't always be using a sword in a crisis, so it's vital to learn other methods of warfare."

"Of course, Arthur," Gwaine said, nearly smiling. "Hand me that other mace, will you, Merlin?"

Emrys did as asked without expressing any sort of reaction to the scene before him. Arthur and Gwaine were too involved in showing each other up to notice. Emrys stayed there, since he'd had plenty of time to waste for the moment, and watched Arthur and Gwaine's bout, nostalgia heavy in his heart.

It was a close match, but Arthur succeeded at the very end. Emrys knew Gwaine just let Arthur win, and he knew that Arthur wouldn't be happy to hear him mention it either; he contemplated doing it anyway.

"How was that, then?" Arthur asked him, as if proving to his manservant he could win was something vital (but he was panting rather hard). "Now you can't say that Gwaine is the better fighter."

Emrys' lips quirked softly, eyes dancing more with amusement than pain now. He'd missed this dearly, and since he knew the original Merlin would be too busy doing his chores there was no way that they'd get accidentally interrupted if he took their flirting up a notch.

"Yes, Sire," Emrys said, almost mockingly. "Then again, Gwaine did let you win."

Arthur gave him a look that Emrys had no idea he'd been missing, but tried not to let it affect him. He gave Arthur a small grin in return.

"If you're looking for a smack then by all means continue on with that thought."

Emrys didn't want Arthur angry with him at the moment; what he wanted was to feel that golden skin wrapped around him once again. So he reined in his urge to retort something back that would no doubt get him thrown in the stocks, and he laced his voice with honey instead of vinegar.

"The kind of physical contact I'm thinking of involves no violence, my lord," Emrys whispered. "That is, unless you've suddenly developed a kink for spanking."

Arthur's gaping stare almost made Emrys laugh, but he winked and smiled at Arthur instead. There was no need to risk riling the prince at a time like this.

"Why you—" Arthur began to say through gritted teeth, but then his voice grew stronger and he nearly cracked a smile as he said: "You saucy, little wench. Looks like I hadn't given you a hard enough pounding this morning after all."

Emrys beamed, actually proud to hear Arthur calling him such a bawdy name.

Gwaine walked by at that moment and gave them a questioning look. Merlin, to Arthur's surprise, didn't even blush.

"Don't," Arthur warned his knight.

"Don't what?" Gwaine asked.

"You know what," Arthur said. He didn't let Gwaine continue his inquiry, knowing that he would, so he took his manservant's hand and pulled him toward the citadel.

"Arthur?" Emrys asked in his best innocent voice, grinning in victory. Arthur couldn't see it, however; he was too busy pulling Merlin along behind him, eyes forward.

"Shut up, Merlin."

Emrys recognized that tone, and he knew that he was in for one hell of a ride. With the thought that this could be his last time with Arthur ever, Emrys took great delight in being manhandled up the stairs toward Arthur's chambers, and greater still when he was shoved inside and pushed toward the bed. The second the door was shut, Emrys latched his mouth to Arthur's and Arthur kissed back as if he were in a fight for dominance. Arthur always liked being in charge no matter what he was doing, but when the thought of turning the tables on Arthur flitted through Emrys' mind he couldn't let the notion leave him. He'd already taken his past self, showing himself as well as the rest of the universe that he was capable of taking charge just fine; that when the stakes were high and push came to shove he could drip with testosterone with the best of them.

He didn't want to hurt or alarm Arthur too badly, though, which was why when he was on his back in bed, and felt Arthur's grip on him loosen slightly, he used just enough magic to help him flip them over. Arthur was astonished by the sudden herculean strength Merlin showed, so Merlin took advantage by pressing his lips to Arthur's again, slipping a tongue inside, and raised one of Arthur's legs onto his shoulder.

Arthur ripped his mouth away from Emrys', panting. "Don't you dare."

"Don't I dare what?" Emrys said, having the gall to smirk. "Sire."

"A prince does not let himself be taken. Not ever. You understand me?" Arthur's tone and facial expressions were meant to scare Emrys into obeying, a deep scowl with clear meaning, but Emrys understood better than Arthur guessed that sometimes—most times—Arthur was only trying to intimidate into getting his way. It used to work on him, but Arthur was out of luck today.

"Even a prince isn't infallible," Emrys said, and continued to try dominating Arthur. He tested the tightness of Arthur's body, finding it slightly sweaty and unmistakably virginal. He circled his thumb around the taut ring and Arthur jerked, trying to squirm away.

"Merlin, I'm warning you—" Arthur intoned dangerously, and although he seemed not to want Merlin lying over him and touching his hole in a very intimate manner, Arthur's cock was filling with insubordinate interest.

"You like it," Emrys said. "Look at that beast of yours reaching for me, begging me."

Arthur reached up, gripped Emrys' shoulders hard, and with one well-timed movement had rolled them over. Emrys only gasped softly in the sudden turn of events, and then laughed despite the threatening gleam in Arthur's eyes.

"What makes you think you've earned the right to take me against my will, Merlin?" Arthur sneered.

Emrys should be well and truly chastised, and afraid, but it only heated his body and fattened his cock. He found he was enjoying the struggle for dominance.

"I only wanted to taste you, Sire," Emrys said without missing a beat. "I was going to tease you open with fingers and tongue, and then—"

Arthur interrupted him with a searing kiss. It became sloppy and passionate with no intention other than to simply lose themselves in each other. Arthur didn't say anything, but then again he didn't need to; Emrys could tell just by his body language that the prince wasn't in the mood to switch over control just yet. Emrys loved the fight for just who was in charge (which Arthur would shout that he was until he was blue in the face), so of course Emrys wanted to test these new waters by not giving in; he wanted to prolong the clash of authority. So, he swatted Arthur's backside.

Arthur jumped and glared down at him. "I swear you do that again and you'll get something other than the stocks as punishment."

Cheekily, Emrys did it again.

"That's it!" Arthur turned Emrys around on his belly and pulled his arse up.

"Ooo, I'm so scared—ah!" Emrys groaned, gripping the pillow beneath him.

Arthur moved his fingers in and out of Emrys in a not so gentle fashion. "Looks like you need a reminder of just who the master is."

Emrys quickly switched his demeanor to more subservient, but only for now. His mind reeled with a sudden plan while Arthur kept fingering him and placing light kisses along Emrys' shoulders as a reward for the halt in his resistance. Emrys widened his stance and pushed back.

"That's right," Arthur crooned with approval. "You know who your superior is, don't you?" He nipped along Emrys' spine until he couldn't bend any further, and slid his fingers out.

Emrys bit his lip to stop himself from retorting, which would no doubt get him into trouble again and would ruin his plans. So he continued to act very, very submissive, panting and whining to enhance the show. "Oh, yes, Sire! You're my better, and I'm your lowly, humble servant. Show me your power and vitality."

It sounded over the top in Emrys' ears, but Arthur was so far gone in lust that the slight mocking in his tone went unheeded. Arthur growled in what would be considered approval and proceeded to mount Emrys as if, again, he were a stallion and Emrys was a mare. Emrys remembered how his Arthur had been like this when they'd started out, but during their last couple tumbles under the sheets he had shown his Arthur how to spice things up. They'd done nearly everything they could imagine, but before Emrys was able to explore even more possibilities, his Arthur had been taken from him.

Forcing that particular unpleasant memory back into the corner of his mind, Emrys concentrated on the here and now, thrusting his hips back to meet Arthur's. Arthur grunted in his ear, breath hot and heavy; Emrys whimpered and panted in reply, his cock heavy as it bounced between his thighs. Arthur was a welcome weight that he'd missed dearly; a sweaty and hard chest against his back. A strong clutch around him, and a familiar and arousing musky scent in his nose.

As predicted, Arthur finished first. His fingertips tightened on his ribs, legs clenching as his body hunched up, making small jerky movements while he filled Emrys with his seed. Arthur had only grunted and panted hotly into Emrys' ear as he did so, the side of his face practically nuzzling. Emrys almost nuzzled back but knew he couldn't lest his emotions ran away with him.

Arthur's limp cock slid out of him and slowly he fell to the side onto the bed, eyes shut and chest heaving. Emrys hadn't even come yet.

"Good, Sire?" Emrys asked with a smirk, still resting on his elbows and presenting his arse to the air.

"Yes," Arthur sighed, tired. "But don't go getting a big head about it."

"Of course, Sire." Emrys bit his lip, nearly laughing. "Oh, and if Your Majesty would be so kind as to—"

Arthur snored, and unfortunately it wasn't faked. Emrys frowned.

"Well, if that's the way you want it," he said, smile small but not any less wicked.

He ripped strips of cloth from Arthur's shirt, lifted Arthur's arms over his head, and tied them tightly to each bed post.

**

"Merlin!"

The manservant in question was just heading toward the prince's chambers with an armful of Arthur's mended shirts and his clean cape (not to mention the boots he'd had to polish) when he first heard Arthur shouting his name. He hurried his steps only slightly, knowing that he'd get there in time before Arthur got really angry, but he heard Arthur shout his name again with more desperation and ferocity. Confused, worried, and a bit annoyed, Merlin practically sprinted down the hall to the door.

"DAMN IT, MERLIN!" Arthur shouted, from what Merlin knew, for his third time. "GET YOUR ARSE BACK HERE!"

Merlin charged inside, a defensive spell readying on his lips (and to hell with Arthur finding out about it if he was in danger), but stopped short when his gaze landed on Arthur. He dropped his armload as he stared, dumbfounded, at the naked prince, whom was very red in the face and had been made immobile. And was that semen drying on his chest?

"There you are," Arthur growled. "I've been yelling for almost half an hour! You better have a good explanation as to why you tied me to the bed or so help me, Merlin, you'll wish I only put you in the stocks!"

Merlin gaped, but not because of the threat he'd just received but because his doppelganger actually had the nerve to do this to Arthur. Of course, if it had been himself that did it (and it technically was…) then that meant Arthur must have done something to upset him. Yet, like the good servant and lover that he was, Merlin crawled onto the bed to untie his master.

He was put into a headlock for his troubles.

"Oi!" he yelled within the vicinity of Arthur's armpit.

"How dare you do that to me, Merlin. Explain yourself this instant!"

"Ah, ugh!" Merlin was both irritated by what Emrys had got him into and the sweat coming from Arthur's pit. "Let me go, I—aah!"

Arthur's knuckles rubbed the top of Merlin's head hard, causing static to build, and Arthur's bicep squeezed harder causing Merlin's face to imitate a tomato. Arthur finally let up after Merlin pounded Arthur's back and shoulders in weak protest. Arthur nearly cracked a smile at the sight of Merlin's hair sticking up. However, he was still angry and found he couldn't care less as to why Merlin did what he did.

"All right, since the stocks wouldn't be a good idea to punish you with for this particular misdeed then I'll make one up."

"Arthur, honestly, I don't understand how you got—"

"Shut up and let me think!" Arthur barked. He stood and paced the room, and Merlin honestly felt a bit wary about what Arthur would pick as his punishment. He seemed to have completely forgotten he was naked as he paced, but Merlin opted not to say anything as the prince had ordered.

"I've got it," Arthur finally said after a couple minutes. "I'm withholding sex until you earn it again."

Merlin gaped in bewilderment. "But, I, what?" 

"You heard," Arthur said, tone invoking no argument. "And get this mended," he added, throwing his ripped up shirt and its strips at Merlin. "Tying me to the bed was one thing, but ruining one of my best shirts in order to do it? That's really pushing it."

Merlin bowed and left, slamming the door behind him. As he got closer to Gaius' his temper grew worse and worse, and his imagination of what he was going to do to Emrys the moment he saw him became more and more gruesome. What Emrys did was the straw that broke the camel's back; he'd had it up to here with him!

Luckily, at least for him, Emrys was in his bedroom when he entered. Gaius had been too engrossed in a tome to really pay attention to Merlin's entrance, and Merlin was grateful for it. That meant Gaius won't wonder how Merlin went from being inside his room to coming in again. He forced himself to shut his bedroom door behind him quietly lest he get Gaius' attention, but his anger was beyond boiling now.

"Ah, done with the chores then?" Emrys asked, lying back in bed with his hands behind his head as if he were royalty.

Merlin threw Arthur's torn shirt onto the floor with the rest of his dirty clothes and calmly, but firmly, ordered: "Stand up."

"Uh oh," Emrys said, smirking inanely. "Someone's not happy." He stood, though, not appearing phased by Merlin's anger at all. "Look, if it's about Arthur I can explain. You see, he was—"

Merlin pulled his fist back and slugged him one. Emrys fell back onto the bed, holding his jaw in surprise. Merlin towered over him, and before he could decide if he wanted to punch the arse again, Emrys sprang up and hit him back. They ended up in a clench but not the kind that would result in any sex, regrettably. They grappled each other, shouting insults and crying out in pain whenever one or the other would get a lucky hit in, and then toppled loudly over the other side of the bed.

"What in the name of the Great Dragon is going on here?" Gaius yelled after he opened Merlin's bedroom door. Merlin and Emrys very slowly raised their heads over the side of the bed, both sporting guilty and dread-filled expressions. Gaius jerked back in shock, mouth hanging open.

"It was his fault," they both said together, pointing.

Merlin gave his future self a really nasty look while Gaius continued to gape. Emrys finally looked back at Merlin, finger still in Merlin's face, and Merlin tried to bite it. His teeth snapped around only air.

"I think it's time we had a talk," Gaius finally voiced and walked out the door, but didn't shut it. When neither Merlins followed immediately, Gaius shouted behind his shoulder: "NOW."

They scrambled to their feet, pushing and slapping each other along the way like quarreling brothers.

***


	5. Chapter 5

Doppelganger 5/8 (+epilogue)

**

Gaius ogled them in silence for almost a minute before both Merlins started to squirm under that intense stare. Emrys seemed a bit more defiant during the silent reprimanding than Merlin, but it didn't take long before Gaius had even Emrys feeling like a naughty child. It had been years since Emrys seen Gaius and his eyebrow, but it still packed the same wallop.

"I don't think I need to tell you both how disappointed I am, and what I'm about to tell you to do now."

"Yes, Gaius," intoned both warlocks, eyes lowered.

"This is just… utter madness!" Gaius exclaimed. "All the books I've read that talk about time-travel all say the same thing: it is dangerous to meet yourself; it's foolish to mess in the affairs of your past self and try to change big events. You knew this, I'm pretty sure you both knew this, and yet here I find you interacting with each other and touching and fighting and who knows what else you two have done together!"

At that statement, Merlin went bright red from just the mere memory of Emrys' hands on him. Emrys, however, didn't seem as fazed. Either that or he wasn't thinking about it, which was ludicrous in itself because surely seeing how it was him the same thoughts should be going through his mind as well.

"Whatever it is that's going to happen, Merlin," Gaius soldiered on, aiming his deadly eyebrow at Emrys now, "just let it happen. You could ruin the entire timeline or do something horrible to the universe; haven't you thought about that?"

"I've had plenty of time to think about it," Emrys snapped. "Trust me; if I let this event play out things will become very, very bad. I must do what I came here to do, and once I'm done you won't see me again."

"You're not listening to reason!" Gaius shouted.

Emrys stood, hands balled tightly and eyes almost glowing in their stare-down. "No, YOU are not listening, Gaius! This is exactly the reason why I hadn't come to you or anyone else for help. I knew that you would try talking me out of it! Well, forget it; my mind is made up in this and I'm going through with it. If either of you try to stop me I will make sure that you stay out of my way."

"But I wish to help," Merlin said. "Please, let me help in putting things to rights."

"No," Emrys said, tone gentle yet firm. He lifted a hand to cradle the side of Merlin's face. "It will only complicate things, and if you get caught as well then we're both doomed. It's better if I fly solo."

"Emrys," Merlin tried again, but Emrys placed a finger on his mouth to shush him then leaned down and kissed him softly. A deep red spread across Merlin's face, and both of Gaius' eyebrows nearly flew off his forehead.

"It's the right thing to do," Emrys murmured. "I'll save the future for us all, and then you'll never see me again."

There was a slight stuttering of Merlin's heart as he blinked back tears. "Emrys, no… you can't let yourself die. I won't—"

"You have no say," Emrys said, straightening up. "Besides, I'm you, remember? Live on, for the both of us."

With that as his possible last words, Emrys fled the room.

Merlin would have chased after him if it weren't for the fact that it would be too weird if someone saw two Merlins leaving the room. He continued to stare at the door in silent sorrow, wishing he knew what to do. He hated just sitting back and letting someone else (even though it was himself) do all the work in saving Camelot. Wouldn't it be better if the two of them worked together? But the thought of Emrys, of his future self, possibly ceasing to exist all together after finishing his job bothered him much more than he'd ever thought it would.

Gaius cleared his throat, shaking Merlin out of his mournful daze.

"Do I want to know why he kissed you on the lips, as if you were lovers?" Gaius asked.

"Uh, no," Merlin said meekly, cheeks looking sunburned. "Not really." He slouched against the table, feeling helpless, and trying not to think about how Emrys' lips felt or the memory of his hands. That way lay madness.

**

During dinner, Merlin tried to engage Arthur into talking, but Arthur was having none of it. It was obvious that he was still upset with Merlin for what Emrys had done, even though he thought it was Merlin. Theoretically, it was, but not the Merlin of the present. Merlin really didn't find it fair that he was being punished for something his future self had done. 

He tried to sneak into Arthur's bed while he wasn't looking. Merlin figured he might as well give it a shot, see if Arthur would relent if he saw Merlin naked and horny lying spread eagle on the bed sheets. It didn't work.

"Get up and get dressed before I throw you out that door without a stitch on, Merlin," Arthur demanded. Merlin widened his eyes, trying to look as cute as possible, but somehow Arthur was unaffected. Merlin knew that it was only a matter of time before Arthur would come crawling back, he was sure of it.

Merlin slumped back into Gaius' chambers, head down and bottom lip protruding.

"Is Arthur still angry with you?" Gaius said.

"What do you think?" Merlin retorted curtly.

"There's no need to snap at me," Gaius said. Merlin ignored him and stomped up the stairs to his room. He was still frustratingly horny even while angry, which must say something about his mentality.

"If you've come to hit me again, you're out of luck," Emrys said the moment Merlin opened the door. Merlin closed it quickly behind him.

"You'd deserve it," Merlin countered, deciding not to bother asking why Emrys was suddenly there. "Tying Arthur up without him knowing after—whatever it was you two did, and… and why are you naked?"

The covers were artfully placed over a hip, just barely keeping Emrys' modesty, and long fingers played with the hem of it as he studied Merlin. "You're me," he pointed out. "Surely you can guess."

"You're trying to seduce me." Merlin was actually astounded by Emrys' nerve.

"Very good." Emrys winked. "Seeing how your erection hadn't flagged at all since you came in here I would have to venture that you'll take me up on my offer."

"Look," Merlin huffed. "Just because Arthur decided to forbid me—us—sex with him doesn't mean that I'm so hard up for it I—"

"Would want sex with yourself?" Emrys finished as he slowly slid the bed sheet down his hip and thigh, exposing himself inch by inch. It should not have been a tempting sight, since it was his own body, but he couldn't stop thinking about the last time he'd had a tumble with Emrys. His eyes were glued to that naked, narrow hip for so long that he hadn't realized just when it was that Emrys had removed the blanket entirely. When Emrys cleared his throat, Merlin looked up at his face first before taking in the rest of him.

It was his body, that was a given, but it was also more chiseled than his own, and more war torn. He could see a new scar on the corner of one shoulder and a small one by his knee. His gaze finally landed on Emrys' cock, which was still the same size and shape as his own, but had probably seen much more action than his. It wasn't flagging either.

"Well?" Emrys urged, a slight lift of his mouth.

Merlin cursed his inability to say no to such unconventional needs and joined Emrys on the bed. He wiggled in Emrys' lap, trying to get comfortable. Emrys tried to hold him still, hands on hips, and the feel of them on his skin made Merlin blush involuntarily. They rocked together slowly at first, Emrys' hold on Merlin strong, as if he were afraid Merlin would leap away any minute.

It didn't take long before Emrys was flipping them over so that Merlin now lay on his back. Merlin thought about protesting, but only for a few seconds; his mouth became too busy to really say much. Merlin had found himself shamefully wanting Emrys so bad that he could practically taste him before he kissed him. Emrys' touch became rougher, stroking and groping his sides before descending even lower until he found the small, but firm, arse. His fingers teased the slight curves of Merlin's bottom, and then lifted Merlin against him.

Merlin didn't know when he'd become naked, but he had a feeling as to how. That didn't stop him by any means. The feel of their cocks sliding wetly, throbbing, only heightened Merlin's longing. When Emrys finally released their mouths, he trailed hot, searing kisses down Merlin's neck and shoulders, his hips never stopping.

Too embarrassed to admit just how turned on he was by it all, Merlin returned every grope and kiss he'd received. His panting grew heavier and damper in the small room, the smell and heat of sex eminent. Then Emrys stopped, and Merlin gazed at him, frustrated, eyes glazed more than if he'd had a few stiff drinks.

"Turn over," Emrys whispered hotly into his ear.

"Oh God, but—" Merlin started to say, but obeyed anyway; his limbs almost reluctant and lazy. "I want to—"

"Be face to face? I know." Emrys situated Merlin's limbs beneath him as if he were just a puppet. Merlin let him rearrange his arms and legs in any way he liked. "But I wish to take you as Arthur would have."

"Fuck," Merlin panted. He half-hid his face in his pillow. Emrys raised Merlin's arse only a little before pressing himself between his thighs. Merlin could feel his hole opening up from the position, and taking notice of it made his muscles flex, causing it to twitch.

Emrys draped himself over Merlin's back, running a soothing hand along Merlin's flank. "There's a good boy. Now, get wet—oh, I see you already have." Emrys slipped two fingers inside him, finding no resistance.

The spark that ignited between them when he first took Merlin hadn't been noticeable, as if it were confused by the two vessels. But now that Emrys had been here for a longer span of time than before, the strong magic they both possess danced and burned brighter. If they weren't careful they could set the entire castle ablaze. It wouldn't matter one whit to Emrys personally, but it would ruin his plans if he allowed it.

"Do not tip over into chaos," Emrys said, mouth pressed against an ear. "You'd unleash too much power and then both our heads will roll."

Merlin understood. It was a little harder than last time, but he found he could manage. Emrys had to slow down for a while, sliding his fingers out of him, and he reined in some control. Suddenly, Emrys pushed his cock inside without warning. Merlin threw his head back, mouth gaping as he tried to halt the noise that was threatening to come out. He let out a small, choked sound regardless.

"Shh, my twin," Emrys murmured, rocking into him gently. "Not a sound, lest you alert Gaius to our activities." He kissed Merlin's shoulder, as if rewarding him, when Merlin didn't utter a sound. "There you go."

Merlin took a few gulps of air, willing his breathing to slow. But just as he was getting himself marginally under control, Emrys was thrusting inside him with quick, hard snaps of his hips. Merlin's knees nearly gave out. He sank his head between his shaking arms and looked underneath his body. His cock was jutting out long and hard, leaking and craving touch. He wanted to take himself in hand, but he was shaking and being fucked too roughly.

Emrys took hold of him, lying atop him, and began to fuck him as Arthur usually did. It conjured the image in his mind, but then it flashed back to it being Emrys, then Arthur again, then Arthur and Emrys. He was normally possessive about the thought of anyone else with Arthur, but the thought of Emrys with Arthur didn't spark that painful covetous sensation in his heart. It was either because Emrys was him or because of something completely different that he didn't recognize yet. When his mind kept imagining Emrys and Arthur, Emrys taking control, it made him harder than he'd ever been. So when Emrys finally got around to touching him, his cock throbbed only a few beats before he was spilling over Emrys' hand.

Emrys pulled out, and for a second Merlin thought he'd angered him by coming so soon, but then he was turned over again and his legs were raised onto Emrys' shoulders. Merlin waited until Emrys was all the way inside him again before placing his feet flat on Emrys' chest. The different position made it more effortless for Emrys to thrust, to both their surprise, so when Emrys placed his hands flat on either side of Merlin's head he went to town. Although he'd already come, it was still stimulating enough to be pleasurable, but a minute later Emrys was throwing his head back and coming hard.

They curled up together, not speaking for a long time. They just lay there, catching their breath and oddly enjoying the post-coital moment. Merlin had his head pressed to Emrys' heart, counting the beats impulsively. Emrys' arms around him were strong, almost possessive (but of course that was just silly; why'd Emrys be like that with him?). They fell asleep quickly, not a word spoken between them.

Merlin woke up first, which was a surprise even to him. He'd been sprawled over Emrys, pinning him to the bed, but Emrys didn't seem to mind as he slept on. Emrys looked almost peaceful, not like he normally did during the daytime. Merlin wasn't sure what Emrys had gone through, but his eyes reflected the hardships and struggles he'd most likely endured. As far as Merlin knew, this was probably the first time Emrys had had a decent sleep in a while. He decided not to wake him. Merlin slowly got off Emrys, out of bed, and quietly pulled on his clothes.

Then he saw their boots. The pair that he'd been wearing, which technically were Emrys' but he'd had them repaired after his own, were still covered in dry horse dung. The other pair, which were his originally in which Emrys had stolen, were still clean. It wasn't hard to choose just which pair he should put on. It was good enough payback for stealing his boots in the first place. Mind made up, Merlin slipped on Emrys'—his—clean boots, and then quietly left. He had to get Arthur's breakfast after all.

.-.

Today was the day that Lord Claudas and his entourage arrived, so he knew he had to be extra cautious about how he behaved. Arthur was sure to be under more stress as he tried to please the other lord. The castle was bustling with servants getting the last minute things done. Twice Merlin nearly bumped into one of them, both rushing in a haste to get to their destinations. Merlin apologized and they quickly went on their way. It was not a day for stopping for a quick chat.

When Merlin entered Arthur's room with breakfast, doing his usual morning routine for waking up Arthur, Arthur glared silently at him, clearly irritated by Merlin's cheery mood, and got up without much hesitation. Merlin tried to get Arthur to smile, but the prince was not being very cooperative. Surely Arthur wasn't that angry with him still?

"Sire," Merlin tried, as he fixed his Royal Pain-in-the-rear's collar.

"Don't talk to me, Merlin," Arthur said, teeth grinding. "I won't listen to your inane chatter; especially today. Lord Claudas will be arriving sometime after lunch and I don't want to have to put up with insolent servants beforehand."

"I just wanted to ask—"

Arthur held up a finger in warning, eyes glinting dangerously. "I would advise that you do as I say today or you'll end up in the dungeons. Do I make myself clear?"

Merlin nodded sadly, head bowed a little. "Yes, Sire." Then he quietly added, "Just wanted to ask how you were feeling."

Arthur heard him but made no reply, only rolled his eyes at his manservant's unwillingness to cooperate. 

Finally, Arthur said, "Go do your usual tasks before lunchtime, and don't give the royal guards any trouble."

Arthur left before Merlin could respond, and he stayed standing in the middle of Arthur's room for a minute before he realized he was doing it and quickly left. Since he was nearly done with his chores until this evening, he decided to see if Gwen wanted any company into the market. Yesterday Gwen had expressed the want of doing some shopping since she was getting paid this morning. He hoped to catch her before she left so that he wouldn't have to go searching for her during one of the busiest times for the marketplace.

He was lucky enough to spot her just making her way to the gate that led to the market in the lower town. He picked up the pace, his own coin purse latched to his belt jingling and small rucksack over one shoulder bouncing.

"Gwen! Wait up, yeah?" he called after her. She stopped and turned around.

"Oh, Merlin," she smiled. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to come with me since you hadn't said anything yesterday when I told you I was going."

"Yeah, I wasn't sure myself," he said, returning her smile in kind. "I'm pretty much done with my chores for the time being, so I thought I'd tag along and maybe even buy myself something. Other than boots, of course."

"Of course," Gwen laughed. "Well then, let's be on our way before the sun is at its highest point in the sky."

Merlin agreed; not just because he didn't want to be late with Arthur's lunch, but because the market wasn't very pleasant during the hot noon-day sun. The freshly caught fish and picked fruit weren't as pleasing to see or smell, and there were some peasants that didn't bathe for weeks on end.

The market was relatively busy. There were more people queued up at certain jewelry and clothing shops, as well as food carts, than any other. What Merlin had in mind to buy wasn't anything close to being boots, but instead of going off on his own to do so he stuck around Gwen for a bit as she shopped for something for her hair. He watched her happy, smiling face in one of the round mirrors as she stuck in hair clips, ribbons, and whatever else she took a fancy to in order to see how they looked on her. Merlin made nice comments to the ones he liked and shrugged his shoulders to the ones he didn't care for.

After Gwen paid for two ribbons, she followed Merlin to his destination, which happened to be a cloak shop. He'd been meaning to buy himself a hooded cloak for ages, but hadn't had the chance. It didn't take as long as he thought to find the right one, and he bought it without thinking twice. When they were both finished with their shopping, it was fifteen minutes before noon. They were just on their way out of the market when Gwen remembered something she forgot.

"Sorry, but I promised my brother I would pick up something he'd ordered for the forge. You don't need to wait up for me."

"No problem, Gwen. I'll just be getting Arthur's lunch anyway. He doesn't want me to be late."

"Okay. Well, thanks for shopping with me. You're a great friend."

"You're welcome, Gwen. I don't mind shopping with you at all. I know how much you miss doing this with—er, I mean…" Merlin could kick himself. Why'd he almost bring up Morgana? The day was going so well, too.

Although Gwen knew what he was about to say, he saw her struggle not to be too bothered by it. She shrugged, pasting on a smile, and said, "Yeah, I know. That's what makes you such a terrific person, Merlin."

"I'm sorry, Gwen. I didn't mean to almost mention—"

"It's okay, Merlin, really," she said quickly. "It's fine. Don't beat yourself up for it. I know what you meant, and that you mean well. I'll get over it, really. I'm a big girl, you know." She patted his arm in a caring and friendly gesture and made her way back toward the market. Merlin sighed, heart light and content in knowing he had a good friend in Gwen.

He was more than glad to leave now that he got what he came for, so that he could obtain Arthur's lunch on time, but just as he entered the castle gate he was suddenly grabbed by two guards and ushered toward the throne room.

"Oi, what're you doing?" Merlin demanded. He didn't get a reply, which was odd because Arthur normally had the guards tell the person they arrested what they were being arrested for. Ever since Arthur had become regent he'd been acting differently than when he had been just the prince. Merlin was beginning to really despise it.

Predictably, Arthur was in the throne room, actually sitting on the king's throne, when Merlin was hauled in. As the guards dragged him forward, Arthur stood and descended the dais.

"Arthur, what—" Merlin began.

"Merlin, I don't understand why you think you need to steal, and personally I don't care why you're having this lapse in moral issues, but you need to give them back before I throw you in the dungeons."

"What? Steal? I haven't stolen anything!"

"You were seen, Merlin," Arthur growled. He stepped closer, almost toe to toe with him. "So don't go making excuses. Return what you stole so I can get back to doing more important things like, say, running a kingdom?"

"I swear to you, Arthur, it wasn't me!" Merlin did his best to show his sincerity through his eyes. Arthur faltered slightly, eyes softening and shoulders losing their stiffness, but then after glancing over at a peasant that had been standing there (probably the one that came to Arthur to tell him about Merlin's purported thievery) his mouth tightened again and his eyebrows furrowed. Merlin didn't like that look.

"Why do you try my patience? I don't understand what has gotten into you lately, and frankly it is getting on my nerves. So tell me honestly, Merlin, were you in the market this morning?"

"Yes, but—"

"And how about this, then?" Arthur said, taking Merlin's newly bought hooded cloak out of his arms and holding it up. "You were seen wearing it while you were stealing. Looks to me like you hadn't had the chance to get rid of it before you were caught."

"What, I—I just bought that cloak!" Merlin argued. "And I can prove it by showing you how much of my well-earned gold for the week I have left over in my purse, look—"

"Nice cover story, Merlin, but it won't do you any good. You could have bought it before you were seen…"

"I was with Gwen all day!" Merlin tried to defend himself. "You can even ask her."

"Where is she now?" Arthur asked, hands on hips.

"She… she went back to the market to pick something up for Elyan. But seriously, you can ask her when she gets back."

Arthur sighed, harried. "All right, I might be willing to believe you. But at the moment I really have no choice but to put you in the dungeons."

"Arthur!"

"I'm sorry, Merlin, but there were three witnesses who saw you take those boots."

Merlin gaped. "Boots?"

"Take him away," Arthur ordered, straightfaced. Merlin tried to make eye contact with him, to plead with his most sincerest look, but Arthur wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Arthur, please! I swear it wasn't me. It was—there's someone in Camelot that resembles me!" he tried, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

The guards hauled him away by the arms, and Merlin knew there really wasn't anything he could do until Arthur talked with Gwen. He had a pretty good idea just who it had been that stole those boots, too.

.-.


	6. Chapter 6

**

Last minute preparations were being finished just as Lord Claudas and his entourage arrived at the gates. It was as Emrys remembered. The stable hands took care of the horses and pack mule in which Claudas' court jester had been riding on, as Prince Arthur descended the stairs to greet them. Emrys stayed in the shadows, cloak donned and hood up, while he watched the familiar scene unfold.

He remembered during his time that he'd been helping the other servants shake the dust off some blankets out the window as the last of the preparations. When Emrys glanced up, careful not to reveal too much of his face to the light, he did indeed see them hanging out the window with that very blanket. Merlin, his past self, was in the dungeons instead.

No matter how badly he just wanted to zap the person that was about to try murdering Arthur, he knew he had to wait until the appropriate time, or he'd only be seen as a murderer himself (it wouldn't help showing Arthur that magic itself wasn't evil; it was how you used it). From his vantage point, Emrys could just make out Arthur and Claudas' conversation.

"Welcome to Camelot," Arthur said. "I hope your stay here will be a truly advantageous one."

"As do I, Prince Arthur," Lord Claudas replied with ease. He bowed humbly but just at the right amount due to his station. "I look forward to renewing our alliance treaty. I've even brought with me some entertainment." He gestured to his right. "This is my court jester and good friend Aeron."

Jester Aeron bowed low to Arthur. "A pleasure to meet you, your Highness." 

Aeron was dressed almost typical of a jester, but there were no bells jingling on his person nor was he wearing the usual jester hat. When Aeron bowed a second time, as if trying to look like a humble and loyal servant, he pretended to trip and fall over his own big feet, flipping head over heels before landing on his arse. Those still around laughed at Aeron's antics, but Arthur merely looked down at him as if he were crazy. He didn't know the half of it. Emrys kept his eyes on them as he followed them surreptitiously up the steps into the citadel. The guards took no notice of him.

All the necessary niceties were done, and a servant showed Lord Claudas to the guest chambers he'd be staying in for his duration. The rest of Claudas' party were showed to their rooms as well (some had to share with the Camelot staff). Emrys debated on following his intended target, but the guards at the person's chamber door took care of that choice for him, so he followed Arthur (very discreetly) to his chambers. Since he couldn't risk being caught, he had to double-back to Gaius' and stay in his old room for now. If Arthur saw him, too many complications would arise and he didn't have time for any more screw-ups.

It was lucky for him that he remembered Gaius was with the ailing king at the time, trying to inform a delirious Uther of the events taking place (not that Uther actually cared or understood at the moment). So when he opened the door to Gaius' chambers it was empty and blissfully quiet. It was time to put his plan into action. He went into his old room, shut the door, and pulled out the magic book from its hiding place.

Things should be different soon, he mused. Once his job was done, he was gone. Before opening the book to read the last incantation he was sure he'd use in his life, he bowed his head in silence for a few seconds. He thought about his Arthur, about how much he loved him and about his friends that he left in the future, and he thought about his other, present self as well, who was most likely stewing in the dungeons thanks to him. He'd make sure his name was cleared the same time he saved Arthur; he owned Merlin that much at least.

Steeling himself, Emrys opened the magic book, the spot he'd secretly dog-eared the last time he'd used it, and easily read the words before him.

**

After a successful—Arthur rolled his eyes while a few others clapped—juggling act with balls and then lit torches, Jester Aeron tried out a few of his best jokes on the Camelot court.

"So, how does a Sheppard feel after he had lost all his sheep?" Aeron paused for dramatic effect for only a few seconds. Everyone stared at him with blank faces. "Anyone? No? …Sheepless! Ha, ha, get it? Sheepish. Sheepless?—um, right. Anyway! Has anyone heard the one about King Olaf and the horse cock?"

"Not here, Jester!" Lord Claudas reprimanded. "Tell some good jokes, and make sure they're suitable for the ladies' ears."

"Right, of course, my lord," Aeron said, bowing before his lord and then to Arthur. "Anyone heard of a special kind of quick growing rose bush? You see, all you do is plant the seed and then step back."

Many tittered, and some ladies even giggle into their hands. Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes, again.

"What kind of berry is hard to find in a haystack?" Jester said. When no one answered, he quickly finished the joke with: "A strawberry! Get it? A straw—uh," he coughed. "Anyway, let me tell you about the priest, the carpenter, and the cook…"

Arthur groaned, not wanting to hear anymore awful jokes. He almost wished he could throw this turkey in the dungeons too, but he was afraid the other prisoners might try taking their lives after listening to him.

"Okay, okay, you heard it then," the jester said. He didn't sound too sorry for it, though. "How about this joke? A lord found a magic lamp and rubbed it. There were a magic genie in it. The lord was offered three wishes. He first wished for tons of gold, and poof! he got it. His second wish was to live in a large castle with a harem of beautiful women, and poof! it was granted. His third and final wish was to never worry about a thing for the rest of his life. So, poof – the genie brought him right back to his old life as a lord!"

The court was now roaring with laughter. Arthur chuckled softly, actually amused by the jester's joke. Although he didn't want to be.

As Aeron went on telling jokes, he seemed to be getting better. There was more laughter, and Arthur had even almost inhaled his cup of wine a few times choking on a snicker.

It was during one particular joke, however, that Aeron showed his true colours.

The joke was about the sun of all things, and for a second it didn't seem to have a punch line, but then Aeron lifted his hand and a ball of fire materialized above it, Aeron's eyes a sinister orange. People screamed, and knights and guards stood and went to Prince Arthur's side to protect him. It would have done no good; the ball of flame grew bigger and floated higher. The energy radiating from Aeron made sure that no one could get near him.

"Since Prince Arthur seems to think the sun shines out of his arse, let's see if he can handle this ball of fire!" Aeron cackled. Those that had no means to defend themselves or their prince took shelter or ran out whatever door they were nearest. The most loyal, steadfast knights and bravest guardsmen stayed to try to protect Arthur. When a couple of the guards tried to advance on him, Aeron raised his other hand to blow them backwards and they landed hard on the banquet tables.

It was the exact opening that Emrys had been waiting for. Right as Arthur placed a hand onto his sword's hilt, stupidly thinking he could actually cause Aeron any damage with a mortal weapon, Emrys came out of the shadows. He jumped in front of the table to conceal Arthur from Aeron, and held out his hand. Aeron was fast in throwing the giant fire ball, not noticing that someone had stepped in front of Arthur until the second he'd released it. Emrys easily deflected the fire ball with a powerful shield spell; the fire ball flew past the sorcerer's head and smashed into the terrace. Those around that saw the spectacle gasped or gawked at the appearance of the strange sorcerer that had just saved the prince's life.

After a few moments of surprised silence, Emrys heard the sound of a sword unsheathing from behind him; Arthur had taken out his sword. Emrys shut his eyes as he waited to feel Arthur's steel pierce his body, or for the universe to snuff him out of existence now that he'd changed the past, but nothing happened.

Another second went by, and Arthur still hadn't run him through. Aeron, however, got over his shock and was now angrier than a swarm of bees.

"Traitor!" he yelled at Emrys. "You would actually protect the murderer of our kind?"

"Arthur is a good man," Emrys said evenly, disguising his voice by deepening it slightly. "It is not by his rule that so many of our kind have suffered. He is not his father."

"He still keeps the law going," Aeron argued, pointing an accusing finger at Emrys. "You can't just stand there and expect me to believe in your ideology crap! He's a Pendragon and too much like his father for his own good. He must die."

"You'll have to go through me first," Emrys declared. There was uneasy silence again. Emrys didn't dare look behind him, keeping his eyes solely on Aeron. He didn't think he'd be able to stand the look on Arthur's face anyway.

And Arthur still hadn't stuck him with his sword. He counted that as a good sign.

"So be it," Aeron said, voice more low and dangerous. He raised his hand again to deliver another spell. Emrys had enough of the wise-ass and his presumptuous attitude, so he decided to take him out quickly. Arthur might change his mind and decide to kill him after all before he could rid Camelot of this danger.

With just a flick of his expert hand, and eyes smoldering, he turned Aeron's own spell against him. Aeron screamed; thrashing in agony on the floor as blue flames consumed him. Again, people gasped, but didn't move. A few minutes later and Aeron's writhing and shouting died, and then he became nothing more than a burnt corpse, smoking and sizzling. Some of the guards even looked disgusted with the sight, their faces green.

Before Emrys could make up his mind on whether to run or turn around and face Arthur, Arthur took the choice away from him by grabbing the back of his hood and pulling it off his head. Emrys turned around out of reflex (Arthur must have jumped the table to get to him without Emrys noticing). Arthur stared in shock; then his eyebrows knitted together as he took in Emrys' features.

"You look… familiar," Arthur said. "Have we met?"

When Emrys had used the magic book for what he thought would be his last time, he hadn't used it to make himself younger, but older. He wasn't eighty years old, like he'd done to himself many years ago, but old enough where he wouldn't look exactly like the Merlin of present time. His hair wasn't grey but his beard was bushy, mustache full, and his hair was down his neck and curling around his ears and cheekbones. There were more lines on his face and thankfully a wiser gleam in his eyes. Yet, Arthur peered at him as though he could tell just who Emrys really was. If Emrys used his normal voice, he was sure Arthur would recognize him in an instant.

Instead of panicking, like his insides were telling him to, he gave Arthur an amused smile, eyes crinkling and ears lifting. "Don't think so," he husked lowly. "Unless… have you met my uncle the Great Dragoon? They say I look almost like him."

Arthur pursed his lips together, and Emrys could tell that he was trying hard not to roll his eyes. "Oh, yes, I know of that old sorcerer." Then, slowly, Arthur raised his sword and pointed it at Emrys' chest. "You're under arrest."

"For saving your life?" Emrys challenged.

"Sorcery is still banned in Camelot," Arthur said. "No matter what it's used for."

"Maybe I should have let Aeron kill you then."

"I could've taken him."

Emrys' face grew hot and there was a ringing in his ears. He pointed a menacing finger at Arthur, snarling: "My uncle was right. You're nothing but an ungrateful, egotistical prat! I'd heard from others of your goodness, your kindness, and how you understood that punishing someone for saving a life is wrong. What am I to make of the great Arthur Pendragon now? Is he really so ignorant?"

"Guards!" Arthur shouted, his face red from most likely anger and humiliation by Emrys' words. Emrys didn't put up any resistance as two guards grabbed him by the arms. "Lock him up in the dungeon for now. I'll think about what to do with him later."

Just as the guards were hauling Emrys away, Emrys shouted, "Wait!"

Arthur turned back around to face him, giving the guards the signal to halt. "Yes?" he said.

"Look," Emrys said, and then drew Arthur's attention down to his boots. He lifted them in emphasis. "I'm the one who stole the boots, not your manservant. I merely made those witnesses think it was him."

Arthur's eyebrows rose, shocked by the sorcerer's honesty. "I see. All right. Guards, release Merlin while you're down there."

"Yes, Sire," the guards said. Then they dragged Emrys away. Emrys didn't let his gaze leave Arthur's face until the double doors were shut.

**

Merlin was just beginning to doze, stomach rumbling, when a guard opened his cell door. He looked up in shock.

"You're free to go," the guardsman said.

Merlin jumped to his feet and surreptitiously brushed the straw from his bottom. "Oh, thank you. I'm guessing Arthur realized that I wasn't the culprit?"

"The real offender came forward."

"Oh?" Merlin said, urging the guard to go on. Knowing just who it'd been that stole the boots and hearing that he turned himself in didn't sit well with Merlin.

"Yeah," the guard continued. "He's a sorcerer. We're just locking him away now."

So, Emrys accomplished his job after all. Still, that begged the question: "What's Prince Arthur going to do with him?"

"He is still thinking it over," the guard answered tersely. "Now go so I can do my job."

Just as Merlin walked out of the cell, he saw Emrys being escorted to another cell a few feet away. Before Emrys was shoved inside, he'd turned his head and their eyes met. Merlin couldn't decipher what that look meant, but it wasn't making him feel any better about being free.

He ran out of the dungeon and all the way to the Great Hall, hoping Arthur was still there.

He burst into the Hall, and everyone that was still there turned their heads. The sight before him made him stop in his tracks, sliding slightly on the floor. There was a burnt corpse being taken care of and an angry Prince Regent and Lord Claudas looking as if they'd been arguing. Lancelot jogged over to Merlin before anyone else said or did anything.

"Now's not a good time, Merlin," Lancelot said. "Prince Arthur isn't in the best of moods. It's prudent that you leave for now."

"Is that the one who tried to kill Arthur?" Merlin asked, nodding at the body.

"Yes, it is. I'll tell you all about it, then." Lancelot gently turned his friend around and walked him out. Merlin glanced over his shoulder to see Arthur's eyes on him. Only when the doors shut, obstructing his view from his prince, did he turn back to Lancelot.

"All right, tell me," he said. Lancelot did, in detail. Merlin stayed silent through it all, surprising even himself that he hadn't interrupted Lancelot until he was finished.

"Arthur won't kill the sorcerer, surely," Merlin said the moment Lancelot finished. "He saved his life."

"Yes, this is true, and Arthur knows it. I heard him talking of either banishment or having Lord Claudas take him to his kingdom. Apparently Lord Claudas is innocent in the attempted murder of Arthur, but Arthur hadn't believed him at first. After that heated discussion was over then another arose of what to do with the sorcerer. Lord Claudas doesn't ban magic in his kingdom, as Jester Aeron had demonstrated, but Lord Claudas isn't too happy with finding out that his deceased jester had been planning to assassinate Arthur right under his nose. He may even decide to ban magic in his kingdom because of it. That is, if he decides he doesn't want the sorcerer for himself."

"This is not good," Merlin grumbled.

"I thought you might say that," Lancelot said. He looked around the hallway to make sure no one was around, but still he steered Merlin over to a secluded, dark corner and lowered his voice. "If you want, I could help you free the sorcerer. That is, if Arthur plans to execute him. I hope he will pick banishment as punishment instead. Killing someone after they'd just saved your life isn't fair conduct."

"Maybe if you spoke to him?" Merlin suggested. "Perhaps even say that you have one or two friends that are magic users and that they're not evil either?"

"I will try, but you know that I won't risk my knighthood by arguing with the prince. I am his loyal subject until the bitter end. With King Uther laid up, all decisions fall to Arthur now, so whatever he says goes." He paused for a moment. "Maybe you could speak to him tonight? You'll see him later, yes?"

"Yeah, I will. We'll both speak to him when we can. Maybe get Gwaine to talk to him too, if he agrees with us."

"Good thinking, Merlin. I will go speak with Sir Gwaine about it now."

Lancelot went back inside the Great Hall, which was apparently where Gwaine was. Merlin wanted to get permission from Arthur to talk to Emrys, but he knew he had to wait. For now, he went down to the kitchens to eat.

**

Merlin was tending the fire in Arthur's chambers later that evening when Arthur entered. The look on the prince's face warned Merlin not to say anything, so he didn't, though it pained him to stay quiet for so long. Arthur sat heavily on his chair, shut his eyes, and tilted his head back, exposing his neck and bobbing larynx. Merlin stared, wanting to bite and lick it.

"So, where's my apology?" Merlin's mouth suddenly ran away with him. He bit his bottom lip, not believing he actually said that. He would have been better off waxing lyrical poetry about Arthur's manly neck.

Arthur opened his eyes and stared incredulously at him. "Excuse me?"

"Well, I didn't steal those boots after all, did I?"

"No, suppose you didn't," Arthur said through gritted teeth.

"Well then?" Merlin said, smugness radiating off him.

Arthur sighed and closed his eyes for a few brief moments before opening them again. He made a show of how annoyed he was, rolling his head on his shoulders and shifting in his seat. After staring into the fire a while, the flames rising as the last log Merlin had put on it caught aflame, Arthur said quietly, "Sorry."

Merlin stared at Arthur, and then gave him a slow smile. It was rare to hear his prince apologize, but he still did it even if it pained him to be wrong. Merlin was lucky that Arthur had learned not to act like his father in that respect. Uther never apologized for his actions.

Now was a good time as any to bring up Emrys. He could wait to ease it into the conversation, but by then it might be too late.

"I forgive you, Sire. Of course, now you have to say it to Em… er, to the sorcerer."

"I beg your pardon!" Arthur cried. "Apologize to a sorcerer? Why the hell would I have to do that?"

"Because you put him in jail for saving your life?" Merlin replied effortlessly. He used his best 'come now, don't be stupid' expression on Arthur.

"The rule states—"

"Hang the rule!" Merlin huffed, standing, still holding onto the poker. "You didn't care that Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan, and Percival weren't nobles when you knighted them. And you know why? Because you knew that the law was unfair. And I know that you believe it wouldn't be fair to execute a man for doing something good. If you can't force yourself to ignore that idiotic rule of your father's then just banish the sorcerer from the kingdom. Killing him isn't right."

"Merlin," Arthur said, actually growling a little. "Never call my father's rules idiotic again; that's treason."

"So if you think them idiotic it's okay, but a commoner can't?"

"Exactly!" Arthur stood and made his way toward his bed. "And I never said or thought them idiotic. Stop assuming!"

"Then why did you knight Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan, and—"

"Merlin!" Arthur turned abruptly, startling Merlin enough to almost drop the poker. "I am not discussing this with you tonight. Now quit being a nag and help me dress for bed."

Merlin sighed and set the poker down by the fireplace. "Yes, Sire." He followed Arthur into his bedchamber and went straight to the cupboard for Arthur's night clothes. He let it stay quiet for only a few seconds more. "Arthur?"

Arthur sighed, put-out. "What now?"

"Can I see the prisoner?"

Arthur spun around, eyebrows disappearing under his fringe. "Seriously, Merlin, can you get any more insubordinate?"

"I am asking your permission, you know," Merlin pointed out. "That's not being insubordinate."

Arthur sighed again. "No, you cannot."

"I need to ask him something."

"Merlin, you're getting on my nerves," Arthur gritted out.

"I know," Merlin easily replied. "I enjoy being on everything of yours."

"You…" Arthur tried to stay serious, but he snorted a little and almost cracked a smile. Then he did. "You won't let up until I say yes, will you?"

Merlin rocked back and forth on his heels, hands behind his back, as he pretended to think about it. "Mmmm, yeah, pretty much."

Arthur didn't say anything for a moment, most likely making Merlin wait on purpose. Merlin kept staring at Arthur hopefully and not speaking a word lest it ruined his chances. Finally, after Arthur signaled for him to hand over his nightshift, he gave Merlin his consent to speak to the sorcerer, but on one condition.

Merlin waited keenly for what it was. Then, gazes locked, Arthur said: "I want your mouth on me, your body lying in opposite direction of mine so I might return the favor."

Merlin tried to keep his smile from growing too wide as he answered, "Yes, Sire." He was quite pleased that his punishment of no sex was over.

.-.

While Arthur snored away, Merlin got dressed and snuck out, making his way toward the dungeons. He'd kept his part of the bargain after all; Arthur never said when Merlin could go down to visit the prisoner.

There were three guards watching over Emrys' cell door. He explained to them quickly that Arthur had given him permission to see the prisoner, and for a second he thought they wouldn't believe him; but then they nodded and unlocked the cell door. Merlin quietly walked inside, and the guards shut the door behind him. There wasn't as much light inside the cell, but Merlin could just make out a dark shape lying in the corner. When he got closer, he noticed that Emrys was in chains (as Morgana had once been), cloak still on and hood up.

"Emrys?" Merlin whispered.

The prisoner's head rose, shadows playing over his facial features, lips chapped. When he saw it was Merlin, he lowered his hood. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, voice hoarse. If Merlin hadn't known that it was his own older, and scruffier, face he was looking at he could have sworn it was someone else entirely. It was also odd that he found him quite handsome with a beard and longer hair; Merlin always thought he'd look like a beggar if he stopped shaving, but here the proof was undeniable.

Merlin crouched nearer so only Emrys heard him when he whispered, "Why haven't you used your magic to escape yet? Clearly if you can disappear amongst a crowded marketplace you could do so in an empty cell."

Emrys snorted, holding in a laugh. His eyes twinkled with amusement, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. "I have used a lot of energy doing too many big enchantments. I just have enough left over to do trifle spells for one's amusement. How ironic is that?"

"What were the spells that you used which had such a draining effect on you?" Merlin asked, mostly because he wanted to know what spells to be careful with in future. And he was a bit curious as well. He'd never thought his magic had any limits.

"Re-doing the time travel spell so I can stay in the past," Emrys ticked off on his fingers, "the aging spell, spells to stop Aeron, and the concealment charm I'd used before saving Arthur's ungrateful arse."

Merlin nodded his understanding; that was a lot of large spells in a short amount of time.

"When you first spotted me," Emrys explained further, "in the marketplace, it was my first test run of the time-travel spell. When I disappeared it was because I had been flung back to the future—my original time—because I hadn't re-cast the spell when I was supposed to. After I learned how long I was to wait between enchantments, I came back and then you saw me that second time."

"When did you first learn the spell?" Merlin asked.

"It took me five years, after my Arthur's demise, to learn. That's why it took me so long to come back to save Arthur. It took me longer to harness the spell than I thought. I learned the hard way about ageing instead of first reading it in Gaius' book. Thankfully, there's a spell to de-age a person; otherwise, I'd be almost seventy by now."

"What age did you make yourself now?" Merlin said, reaching out to brush a finger over Emrys' wiry beard.

"Thirty-five," Emrys said. Then he winked. "You like it?"

Merlin's cheeks bloomed and he smiled. "It looks good. Maybe I should grow my hair out when I'm older."

"Maybe you should," Emrys said, stroking the smoothness of Merlin's own chin. Emrys was trying to put on a brave face, but his eyes were betraying him.

"I won't let you be executed," Merlin vowed. "Lancelot, Gwaine, and I are going to try convincing Arthur that rewarding you with death after you saved his life is not what a good man would do."

"Thanks, but as I had told you before my life doesn't matter. I have nothing to go back for, and I don't know if what I did even changed anything. I hadn't disappeared like I thought I would, the moment I saved Arthur. The second I return to my original time, I might not exist. It's bleak either way."

"You couldn't just stay here in the past as someone else?" Merlin had wondered that before when Emrys had mentioned ceasing to exist once he'd changed the future, but hadn't remembered until now.

"Staying here…" Emrys shook his head, frowning. "It won't work for long. Every time I use the de-aging spell I use up almost half my magical power. Then any other big spell would drain me and I might not get the chance to use my time traveling spell when I need to, and then—pop! I'm gone."

Merlin understood what Emrys was telling him, but that didn't mean he liked it. "There might still be a future for you; you might just suddenly merge with me or something. If staying here isn't an option it doesn't mean you should die here as another example of tyranny. You could help Arthur see reason."

"You're letting your heart bleed too much emotion again," Emrys berated, but it sounded only half-hearted.

A heavy lump formed in Merlin's throat, his eyes misting slightly. It wasn't fair, he wanted to yell. Emrys should get the bright future that now seemed to be promised to him. He couldn't just sit back and let him die. Not like this. Emrys noticed his sullen look, and gave him a crooked smile. He gestured for Merlin to come closer, so Merlin did. In a sudden movement, Emrys had him in a strong embrace, chains rattling. Merlin returned the hug with a bone-crushing one of his own.

"I'll miss you, gentle twin. Take care of our Arthur now, yeah? Make sure his head stays firmly on his shoulders."

"I won't let you die," Merlin vowed, burying his face within the crook of Ermys' neck. "I promise."

Emrys stroked the back of Merlin's head. "Don't make promises you know you can't keep."

Merlin pulled away only enough to look him in the face. "No, I'm—I swear it, I'll save you." They stared at each other in the dimly lit cell, a hairbreadth away, and then Emrys cradled Merlin's face in his hands and pulled him in for a soft kiss. It grew more passionate and wet; Merlin's hands entangled in Emrys' curls and over the fuzz on his jaw. Then, Emrys stopped them abruptly and pushed Merlin away.

"Go now, before you make me into a blubbering idiot." Merlin could see, though, that it was too late; Emrys' face was wet.

"I really do promise, I'll find a way to free you no matter what it takes." Merlin left before he decided it was nice in the cell after all, huddled in the warmth of Emrys' arms and sharp kisses.

.-.


	7. Chapter 7

**

Merlin had a restless sleep filled with dreams of Emrys and the horrors that might await him. Toward the end of his nightmare, the moment Emrys had caught fire at the stake, so did he, and they'd both burned. Merlin had gasped awake, in the middle of the night, with his heart hammering in his chest. Since he couldn't go back to sleep, Merlin opted to stay up and learn a few useful spells just in case he needed to bust Emrys out of jail (he'd practiced the rest of the night, and heavily, until he got a better handle on the spells—not perfect, but good enough). The second he'd realized that it was morning, he stood up from the bed in a daze and dressed as fast as possible, yawning.

Merlin had to wake Arthur, like he usually did (and it was a good thing he was on time). When he opened the curtain to let the sun shine in, the light hit Arthur square in the face and made him cringe.

"Good morning, Sire!" Merlin chirped, even though he was still slightly drowsy. "I have your breakfast. Would you like a bath this morning?"

"Yes, since I hadn't had the chance to have it last night." Arthur slowly sat up in bed, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Merlin tried to stay cheery and hopeful, for Emrys' sake as well as his. He didn't want to anger Arthur. Doing so wouldn't help in convincing him to release Emrys.

"Your own fault for falling asleep on me," Merlin quipped. He kept his tone as light as possible.

Arthur gave him a half-hearted glare. "You were the one on top of me, if you remember correctly, with your knees on either side of my head and your bony elbows digging into my thighs."

Merlin smirked, holding in a laugh (and trying not to grow hard at the mere thought of what they'd done last night). "Yes, of course, Sire. Anyway, I was wondering if you gave some thought to letting Emr—er, the sorcerer go. When I talked to him last night I didn't feel anything evil coming from him. He was a little snarky but not evil."

"You talked to him last night?" Arthur sounded surprised for a moment and then rolled his eyes. "Of course you did. You just couldn't wait, could you? And for your information, Merlin, I still don't know what to do with him. I'll have to have a council meeting about it. I don't want to be the kind of ruler that doesn't listen to others' opinions."

"Of course, Sire, and I commend you for it, but I think this is something that you yourself should decide since you were the one he saved."

"The law is still the law, and only the king can repeal it. Since it's not totally in my power to do that, and I don't know if I should once I'm king, then we should stick to the law."

"You still shouldn't punish him," Merlin continued to push while he stole a piece of cheese from Arthur's plate. Arthur only gave him a warning glare and kept eating. "Not for doing something good," Merlin said around a mouthful. "He isn't evil, Sire. I think you should pardon him of his use of magic and just banish him. I'm sure he won't return to Camelot."

Arthur raised a brow. "You've been talking to Lancelot, haven't you?"

"I might have." Merlin shrugged. "Did he speak with you?"

"Yes," Arthur said. "I don't appreciate you talking with my knights behind my back, Merlin. Just because I give you more freedom to express yourself than other servants are normally allowed doesn't mean you can break every protocol. Others already suspect you to being more than just an ordinary manservant to me, so you best watch yourself from now on. Don't go behind my back and—"

There was a knock on the door. Arthur ordered Merlin to stand up from the table with only a gesture, and when Merlin forgot that he still had a bit of Arthur's breakfast in his hand, Arthur reached up and grabbed it before he announced, "Enter!"

"Arthur, I hope I'm not disturbing you," Gwaine said, popping his head round the door. "Oh, Merlin! Good morning."

"'Morning, Gwaine. Need to speak to His Worshipfulness?" Merlin grinned.

"I was hoping so, yes," Gwaine said, grinning just as inanely. Out of all the knights, besides Lancelot, Gwaine was one of the best friends he could ever ask for.

"All right," Arthur said with a roll of his eyes. "Enough with the masked flirting, Sir Gwaine. I've told you a hundred times before: I don't share. Now state your business so I can finish my breakfast."

"Of course, Sire," Gwaine smirked and then teasingly added, "We'll discuss the sharing issue later."

"We're not flirting," Merlin insisted, cheeks pinking.

"Hush, Merlin. Sir Gwaine?" Arthur said, urging him to continue, brow furrowed in warning.

"Yes, well, I was wondering if you'd decided on what to do with the sorcerer. Personally I think you shouldn't kill him, but just banish him."

Arthur shot a look at Merlin, eyebrow raised, and Merlin returned the look as innocent as possible.

"It wasn't Merlin that talked to me about it, Sire; it was Lancelot."

"Of course it was," Arthur sighed. "And did Sir Lancelot talk to the rest of the knights, then? Am I to have a mutiny on my hands if I don't do as you all wish?"

"I don't know, Sire," Gwaine shrugged nonchalantly. He leaned just as unflappably against the wall, arms crossed. "I'm sure we'll stay as your loyal knights, but we might become pretty unhappy if you decide to kill the sorcerer."

Arthur threw his hands in the air, and although he seemed annoyed, Merlin knew he was only exaggerating. He could see Arthur's lips twitch. "I understand that killing someone for saving my life is not proper or just, but I have to take the law into consideration. So I'm calling for a council meeting this afternoon to see just what to do about our situation. Now will you please leave so I can finish eating? Your eyeing up my manservant is making me lose my appetite."

"He doesn't mean that," Merlin fake-whispered to Gwaine. "Breakfast is too important for his Highness not to pass up."

"That's it," Arthur proclaimed, tone more mocking than serious. "Out, both of you! And I don't mean so you can jump in the nearest bed together. Your prince needs his space."

"We're not going to jump into bed together," Merlin said, rolling his eyes.

Gwaine bowed slightly to his prince. "Of course, Sire. You just enjoy your meal in peace while Merlin and I resist temptation. Might be hard, though, seeing how edible your man is, and there are many alcoves along the way to the training grounds—"

"Don't make me challenge you to a duel, Sir Gwaine," Arthur stated gesticulating a fork at him.

"Over Merlin?" Gwaine laughed. "My, my, there is more than meets the eye after all! Very well, then." He picked up the other fork from the table and waved it about as if he were serious, going into a fighting stance. "En garde!"

"Out!" Arthur ordered, Merlin laughing in the background. Grinning cheekily, Gwaine gave him one small, slightly mocking bow, deposited the fork back onto the table and then, grinning and eyes shining, quit the room. "You as well, Merlin," Arthur said after the door shut behind Gwaine. "I need some time to think before council starts and I can't do it with you loitering around pretending to do your job."

"I'm doing my job!" Merlin huffed. He picked up bits of the prince's dirty clothes from the floor. "See? I'm always cleaning up after you like a kept wife."

Arthur nearly choked on his bread. "Wife? You'd be so lucky, Merlin. If you grew breasts and had the ability to give me an heir then we'd talk."

"You'd be the lucky one," Merlin retorted. "I doubt anyone else would put up with your prattiness—"

"Treacherous letch!" Arthur gasped, and he threw a slice of bread at Merlin, which he easily dodged. "Get out and let me think!"

"Oi, if you're going to throw something at me then don't use food. It's a real waste."

After shouting (but unconvincingly) at Merlin to leave and something about behaving himself, Arthur ordered him to alert the members of the council that he wished to have a meeting after lunch today. Merlin did as asked, and as he walked down the hall to carry out his prince's orders, he had more on his mind than just his normal duties. He had to think of how he was going to save his future self from execution, which he felt the council might vote for despite Arthur's opinion on it.

***

The council meeting went on longer than Merlin liked. How hard was it to decide on letting a man live after he'd done a good deed? He hoped Arthur would make the others see reason. He was sure that Arthur understood that executing someone who'd just saved your life wasn't the way to go about things. It certainly wouldn't earn him many cheers and good will with the commoners.

Merlin entered the prince's chambers with his dinner, but the prince wasn't there. Merlin had a bad feeling. Ever since the council meeting had started, Merlin hadn't seen hide or hair of Arthur. Usually when meetings went on longer than two hours that meant either a stalemate, or things would swing in the worse direction. Feeling a sense of dread come over him, Merlin decided maybe he should take measures into his own hands. There was little chance Arthur was going to leave the council meeting so late with any good news. He decided to wait a bit anyway, just in case his decision would prove too hasty.

Half hour later, still no Arthur. So, mind made up, he ran to Gaius' chambers and went straight for his room, and his magic book. Gaius, having been trying to finish up the last medical concoction for the night, raised his eyebrow in the direction of Merlin's bedroom.

"Merlin?" he called, but didn't receive an answer right away. "Merlin, what are you doing?"

Then there was a soft hiss of magic heard behind Merlin's door. Gaius feared his young charge was about to do something very ill advised.

When an older man emerged from Merlin's room, Gaius jumped, about to call the guards.

"Relax, Gaius, it's me," Merlin said. When Gaius still seemed confused, he said, "Me, Merlin. I've just aged myself a bit. This is me at thirty-five."

"Gracious," Gaius said, adjusting his spectacles on his nose. "Sorry about that, Merlin; I didn't recognize you with a beard and longer hair. Do I need to know why you've aged yourself?"

"No, best you don't know," Merlin said. He donned the cloak he'd bought from the market, the same exact one Emrys was wearing, and put his hood up. "Well, wish me luck."

"Um, yes; good luck, then?" Gaius said. Before he could advise Merlin to not do something stupid, Merlin was out the door.

It was five minutes later when Gaius realized that Merlin looked exactly like the sorcerer that had saved Arthur's life. Putting one and one together, Gaius added up double trouble.

**

Merlin had no problem getting to the dungeons, which was a relief because being noticed before his plan even begun would ruin everything. Merlin noticed, as he peeked around the corner, the same two guards that brought Emrys down there were standing on either side of Emrys' cell. He straightened back up behind the corner, and took a deep breath. It was now or never; he had to be brave, for Emrys' sake as well as his own. He put his hood up only enough so that it would stay on his head and not hide his face, and then before he could lose his nerve he came out from hiding.

"Missing someone?" he said in a raspy voice, imitating Emrys perfectly. The guards turned their heads.

"The sorcerer!" the first guard said, and went for his sword.

"How'd he get out?" the second one said.

The first guard looked into the cell, and no doubt saw the actual Emrys still in there. "Wait a minute, if he's the sorcerer then who's in here?"

"My doppelganger," Merlin replied on instinct. "I'm the real sorcerer. See?" He conjured a harmless ball of blue light before him.

"It's true," the second guard gasped, drawing his sword now with shaky hands. "He's the real sorcerer!"

"But it could be a trick," said the first.

"Could be, but either way we have a duty to our king. We have to capture him."

Merlin hoped they'd say that. As the guards advanced on him, after putting out the ball of light, Merlin turned the corner and let them chase him until he came to another bend. As he rounded it, he muttered the concealment spell he'd learned late last night. Thankfully, it worked like a charm. The guards went right past him and up the stairs that led the way out of the dungeons. Merlin then quickly made his way back to Emrys' cell, undoing the concealment spell. The keys were, predictably, hanging on the wall beside the door. He unlocked the cell door and opened it quickly.

"Come on, let's get you out of here," he said, then knelt down and used the keys to unlock the restraints from Emrys' wrists.

"You're risking your life you know," Emrys said, but he let Merlin help him stand anyway and out of the cell. Quietly, as Merlin supported Emrys, they made their way toward the exit.

"Wait," Emrys said. "There's another way out of here."

"Oh?" Merlin said.

"Yeah. Best we go this way," Emrys pointed in another direction, opposite of the exit. "Then we won't run into any guards."

"But that way's a dead end."

Emrys winked. "Trust me."

So Merlin did. They carefully made their way down the so-called dead end corridor, Merlin glancing over his shoulder once in a while to make sure no one was following them. When they finally reached the end of the hallway, Emrys slowly removed himself from Merlin and hobbled over to the right side of the corridor. He meticulously ran a hand down the rough stonework before finding what he was looking for, fingertips rubbing almost in a licentious way over an unrelated part of the wall. He pressed it just so and the wall in front of them gaped open.

"A secret passage!" Merlin gasped. "How come I never knew about this before?"

"One has plenty of time to explore the castle the moment one has a more lenient schedule," Emrys said. "Come on, before we're discovered."

Merlin had only known of three secret passages in the castle, and they were usually used by the staff and servants. He didn't think there would be other such hidden corridors, especially down in the dungeons. It was possible some guards and other employees knew of it, so they had to keep going to make time before someone found them.

Surprisingly, the passageway ended at the stables. Small steps and a ladder gave them a boost up and Merlin, going first, pushed up on the wooden hatch. He peeked, seeing where they were, before slowly opening the lid even more. The hatch was attached to a wooden crate that was disguised as a box for horse feed. Two others like it were in the stables, but were used for what they were originally designed to be.

"I think the coast is clear," Merlin whispered down to Emrys. He opened the hatch completely and began to climb out.

"Harry!" gasped an excited stable boy from behind. "I thought you couldn't get away tonight. Otherwise, I would have brought the oil… Oh." The boy stopped short when Merlin turned, staring up at Merlin's half-hidden face. "You're not Harry."

"Sorry to disappoint, Caradog," Merlin said in a low tone. "We're just passing through."

Then Caradog gaped as Emrys rose out from the secret passageway. Emrys kept his face completely shrouded in the hood's shadow so he wasn't recognized by the boy.

"Oh, well," Caradog said, shuffling his feet embarrassingly. "Okay then. Just don't tell anyone about—about what I said, yeah? And I won't tell about your secret rendezvous."

"Deal," Merlin said. "Okay, let's go," he said to Emrys. They silently slipped out of the stables and, concealing themselves quickly with a spell, out of the courtyard.

Once they were far enough away, at the place where Kilgharrah usually landed to meet with Merlin (nicknamed the Great Dragon's site), they stopped to rest under a tree. Emrys removed his hood to get more fresh air, and Merlin decided to follow suit. Now that they had, Merlin finally noticed just how worn out Emrys looked: shrunken eye sockets, dark in color, and pallid skin. It was a miracle that Emrys had enough strength to even stand. He sat beside Emrys, watching him carefully. When Emrys realized he was being stared at, he looked up. The moon was nearly full, shining just the right amount of light onto Emrys' face; Merlin could see dots of moonlight within Emrys' dull eyes and his cheekbones were highlighted. Merlin reached up to drag his knuckles gently over a cheek.

"I didn't know you were this bad off," he said. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"No matter what I would have said you still would've found a way to get me out. I know you; you'd do whatever you could to set me free, dear heart." Then Emrys smiled, almost as if he were amused. "You did promise, after all."

Merlin pressed his forehead against Emrys', closing his eyes. He took a deep breath; the scent of grass, mist, and soil filled his nostrils, along with the unmistakable aroma of Emrys and their magical cores singing together. Merlin's core was much more hopeful and brimming over with love; Emrys' was beating to a more forlorn and cynical rhythm. But underneath all that, Merlin could sense Emrys' hope trickling out.

"How much longer will the time-travel spell last?" he asked.

"Since I had to do it right before saving Arthur I'd say I have until noon tomorrow."

"You might've been burnt at the stake in the morning," Merlin said, realizing. "You would have died before the spell ended."

Emrys was silent for a few seconds, and then slowly, voice sounding almost detached, he said, "What do you mean, I might have?"

"Er, well, I—" Merlin was interrupted by the sound of the alarm bells going off in the distance. They both looked in its direction.

"They know I've escaped," Emrys said. "I think it's best that you leave before you get into trouble for aiding and abetting. Again."

"Where will you stay for the night? Surely you can't stay out here. You need medical attention."

"If I go back to Camelot, I risk being captured again."

"You could stay here while I go back and get Gaius. I'm sure he'll help you. I could also bring back food and…"

"It's too risky for you," Emrys said. "You don't want to get caught taking food and medicine out to me, and Gaius would be risking his life as well. Besides, it's not like I really have a future to go back to—" Pain shot through him suddenly, and Emrys gasped, holding onto his ribs.

"You are hurt!" Merlin gasped. He got close again and placed a hand over where Emrys' hand rested. "Is it your ribs? Are they bruised?"

"Or cracked," Emrys panted. "Most likely from when the guards punched and kicked me."

"They abused you?" Merlin nearly shouted, outraged. "That's horrible! Why didn't you say anything before? We could've made a quick stop to Gaius' before leaving the castle."

"I told you, it doesn't matter. My life isn't important right now. Arthur's is, as well as yours. I have nothing to live for—" Emrys cringed again, hugging his body tightly.

"I'll get Gaius—" Merlin stood.

"No! It's too dangerous for you right now. You might get thrown in the dungeons if they realize you helped me escape, and then you won't be any help at all… just go back through the secret passage and leave me." Emrys curled into a ball, eyes screwed tight. "Just go, you idiot."

"No, I can't…" Merlin's eyes misted over, heart heavy. There had to be something he could do; there just had to be.

Then, like a sudden flash, Merlin remembered. "Oh, why am I so stupid sometimes?" Merlin lifted his head to the sky and called for the Great Dragon to come, ignoring Emrys' weak refusals. Minutes dragged on, feeling like hours, until they heard the beating of giant dragon wings.

"You just don't give up, do you?" Emrys sighed. "Such a great bleeding heart. You really should rectify that."

Kilgharrah landed as near as he could to where they were. He took a few steps closer and lowered his head. "Merlin," Kilgharrah said, and then looked over and saw Emrys lying in a fetal position, "and Merlin. This is… bizarre, and a bit unexpected; especially from you. Although I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised."

"You're right. This is myself from the future," Merlin said. "He's injured. Can you help him?"

Kilgharrah peered closer at Emrys. "Is he poisoned?"

"No, his ribs are injured, and there might be other internal bleeding or injuries. Please help him."

"I do not know if I can," Kilgharrah said.

"What?" Merlin said, his heart plummeting into his stomach. "No, you can't be serious - you have to help him!"

"I am not a doctor, Merlin. I cannot mend bones or internal bleeding. If you cannot do a healing spell then you must seek the help of Gaius."

Merlin hated that the Great Dragon, and Emrys, were right. But he supposed he had no choice. He would have to go back through the secret passageway to get Gaius and do his damnest to be careful.

"Thanks, anyway," he said. "Sorry I called you out here. You were probably sleeping, and I apologize."

"Apology accepted, young warlock, but I was not asleep. I was just cleaning my teeth." Kilgharrah then flashed his sharp fangs at Merlin. "The sheep I had for dinner were quite stringy."

"Ah, I see. Well, um, your choppers look… good; very pearly and razor-sharp. Anyway, could you possibly watch over him while I get Gaius? I helped him escape from the dungeons and I don't want anyone finding him."

"I shall do what I can for any Dragonlord. Even if he is from some unknown future."

Merlin stared at Kilgharrah peculiarly. "Um, thanks. Er, unknown future?"

"I'll explain later, Merlin. Go and fetch Gaius now."

"Right, yes," Merlin said, "thank you." And with one last look at Emrys, he dashed off toward the stables again.

**

The moment Merlin stormed into Gaius' chambers, calling out for him, Gaius immediately berated him for risking his life like he had, bopping him over the head.

"Ow! Gaius!" Merlin moaned, rubbing the top of his skull.

"You ever do something foolish like that again and I'll whip you myself," Gaius continued, words harsh but eyes underlying his worry, and relief that Merlin was safe. "Incidentally, you shouldn't be running around looking like your future self or you'll get mistaken for him. Do you ever stop to think, boy?"

"Sorry, but I wouldn't have been seen. I was using a secret passageway in the dungeons to get back in, and a concealment spell."

"Concealment... Of course," Gaius sighed. "I should have known. Nevertheless, why have you burst in here looking as if the very demons of Hell were set after you?"

"It's about Emrys actually. Er, my future self; Emrys is what we—me and my future self—had choose to call him so we don't get mixed up. He's badly injured. The guards had a go at him and now his ribs are bruised, or possibly cracked, and he might be bleeding from the inside and the Great Dragon can't help him and I—"

"Whoa, slow down, Merlin," Gaius interjected, holding his hands up. "One thing at a time. If he's bleeding internally then I might have something for him to take, but it isn't a guarantee, and he needs lots of rest. We need to bandage a cracked rib as best we can… here, help me pack my medicine bag. If I'm to aid an escaped prisoner I might as well do what I can before we're discovered and sent to the pyre."

"Arthur wouldn't do that," Merlin said loyally, but Gaius said nothing to this. After helping Gaius pack for a few silent moments, Merlin asked, "By the way, how did you know it was me when I came in and not Emrys?"

"Because he doesn't make himself known unless he really needs to," Gaius explained easily. "Whereas you announce yourself without a care for your well-being."

"Ah," Merlin said. "I suppose I'll need to work on that."

"Yes, I suppose you should."

***


	8. Chapter 8

**

Gaius stared up at Kilgharrah, and then got a crick in his neck. Kilgharrah grinned toothily at the old physician.

"Good evening, Great Dragon."

"I suppose it is at that," Kilgharrah said. "Unless you count the double-act cuddling beneath the tree."

"We're not cuddling!" Merlin protested, and he hid his reddening face within the crook of Emrys' neck. "I'm merely keeping him warm, really."

"I said 'huddling', not cuddling," Kilgharrah said in an air of innocence.

"No, you said cuddling," Emrys said, eyes still shut from the pain. "I heard you, Lizard Lips."

"Enough blabbing now, boy, and lay on your back," Gaius ordered. Emrys obeyed, slowly unfurling himself from against Merlin's side, and cringed. Gaius then poked and prodded Emrys' side, and Merlin could only wait patiently for his verdict. After what seemed like hours but was more like minutes, Gaius was done with the check-up and proceeded to take out some bandages. "Merlin, please remove his shirt for me so that I may wrap his ribs."

"Are they broken?" Merlin asked as he did as Gaius asked. He tried to be slow and gentle about it, hating the look of pain on Emrys' face as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"No, but they're badly bruised, and I'm happy to say that his lungs have not been pierced. I don't know if he has any internal bleeding, but if he does this potion should do the trick." Once Merlin got Emrys shirtless, Gaius brought the vial to his lips. "Drink up, lad. It's more than just herbs and spices, as you might notice when you swallow."

After Emrys swallowed down the potion, grimacing at the taste, he lay back down to let Gaius and Merlin wrap his torso. "You're right, Gaius," Emrys said. "There's definitely more in that potion than herbs."

Merlin gave Gaius a questionable look. "What did you add?"

"Magic," Gaius whispered. "What else?"

Merlin grinned. He figured that was what Gaius had done.

As Gaius was putting things back into his bag, Merlin couldn't help his wandering eyes from roaming over Emrys' half-naked body. The bandages covered only his lower ribs, but Merlin was still free to ogle his chest, shoulders, and taut stomach. Merlin was quite pleased with how Emrys looked in the moonlight, and a little envious of the more defined muscles. It made him wonder just what Emrys had done differently to have such harder abs and more distinguished pectorals. Not to mention his scars. Indeed, Emrys was almost like a completely different person; more like a warrior than just a secret magic-user. He could be considered more 'warlock' than Merlin.

"Well, since I am not needed here any longer I shall go," Kilgharrah said. "I wish you luck with this particular dilemma, young warlock. Until next time." Then he raised his head to the sky, flapped his wings, and took off into the air. The powerful take-off produced such a strong gust that Merlin instinctually covered Emrys with his body. He stayed like that even when the dragon was long gone.

"You can get off me now," Emrys said.

"Right, sorry," Merlin said, chuckling, but he only lifted himself up a little, keeping their faces close. Emrys quirked an eyebrow. Merlin was so tempted to kiss him, but Gaius was still nearby and it had been embarrassing enough the last time they'd kissed with the old man in the same room.

When Merlin sat up again, back against the tree but still near Emrys, Gaius walked over with his bag slung over a shoulder.

"Merlin, there's nothing more I can do for him. He has to rest, and I don't know if he should even be moved. The potion I gave him should help, but he still needs time to recover."

"And you can't stay out here for too long," Emrys pointed out, turning his head sluggishly toward Merlin. "Arthur will get suspicious."

"But I can't leave you out here on your own," Merlin protested.

"As I've told you, my life really doesn't matter right now. What matters is you, and Arthur. Now leave before you're discovered here."

"I think you should do as your future self says," Gaius said.

"But I—I just can't!" Merlin wailed, hot tears threatening to escape. "You might be discovered."

"Not if I use a concealment spell."

"You barely have enough energy as it is," Merlin argued. "You told me as much."

"I'll be fine, gentle twin," Emrys said, much more affectionately than he would have normally been. "I've been through more shit than you know. If I'm discovered, then they'll only think I tried to escape by myself. If you stay here you could jeopardize everything."

"Listen to him, Merlin," Gaius said.

"I—I can't!"

"And, Merlin?" Emrys said weakly, his eyelids drooping. "Return to your normal age. Now."

**

In the end, Merlin did as Emrys told him. With Gaius' help, Merlin was able to undo his aging spell, but he still couldn't leave Emrys' side just yet. The alarm bells were still sounding, and sooner or later Camelot's knights would locate them. Merlin knew Gaius couldn't stay much longer, but before he left he gave Merlin strict instructions to follow him back in a few minutes. It wouldn't be wise for the both of them to enter the castle together; it would rouse suspicion. So Merlin promised Gaius he'd wait a few minutes before following.

Emrys fell asleep, and after five minutes had passed Merlin was supposed to leave. He couldn't, though, no matter how hard he tried. He took a few steps toward the castle, but his heart grew heavier the further away from Emrys he became. He ended up returning to Emrys' side, no matter how many times he'd tried to go. While Emrys slept, Merlin kissed his forehead or gently touched a hand to his cheek. He couldn't abandon his doppelganger no matter how hard he tried. He had no idea how much time had past during his indecision.

Just as Merlin leaned back against the tree to try getting a few winks of his own, he heard the sound of hooves. As they grew louder, Merlin's heart leapt into his throat. When the horses galloped into the clearing, Merlin stood, bracing himself against the tree.

It was Arthur and his knights. They stopped at the center of the clearing, hesitating, before Arthur urged them toward Merlin and the sleeping Emrys, horses trotting at an even pace. Once they were close enough, horses halted, Merlin could only stare pleadingly up at a scowling Arthur. Gwaine and Lancelot, however, dismounted quickly and went to him.

"Merlin, are you all right?" Gwaine asked while Lancelot went down on one knee to check on Emrys.

"I'm… I'm fine," Merlin whispered. He was so nervous he thought he might pass out. "But, Emrys—I mean, the sorcerer…"

"He's been hurt," Lancelot said. He looked up at Arthur, eyes serious. "We must bring him to Gaius."

Arthur's face was grim, brow furrowed, but he nodded his agreement. "Yes, we shall. Otherwise, I won't be able to thank him properly."

Merlin thought he had heard wrong, so he wiggled a finger in his ear and said, "Wait, what?"

"You heard me, Merlin," Arthur ordered. "Now get Gaius and tell him to bring a stretcher and whatever else he needs before the sorcerer gets worse."

A huge grin broke out over Merlin's face. "Yes, Sire! At once!" Merlin found he had plenty of energy to carry out such a surprising, yet delightful, order.

**

To say Gaius was surprised was an understatement, but he happily helped get Emrys to the infirmary. Merlin followed closely, worry evident on his face. Gaius checked over Emrys again, mostly for show, because Arthur was still standing by the door watching them. It'd been an hour since Merlin first rescued Emrys from the dungeons but apparently that was enough for Emrys to look a few years older. Gaius looked up at Merlin in shock, having noticed when Merlin did; Merlin hoped Arthur hadn't.

"I need fresh water, heated, and some clean bandages," Gaius said.

"But, I—" Merlin hesitated. He didn't want to leave Emrys' side, not for a minute. Gaius gave him the eyebrow, face stern.

"Now, Merlin."

"All right," Merlin sighed and went to get the water. Passing by Arthur on his way out, Arthur only gave him a peculiar look and surprisingly didn't say anything. Merlin hoped it was a good sign.

He met Gwen along the way and together they went down to the pump. She needed water to finish cleaning the Great Hall, she said. Merlin was surprised, and flattered, to see her wearing the scarf he'd bought for her on that fateful day.

"I hear that Arthur's thinking of pardoning the sorcerer," she said on their way back from the well. When they were pumping for water they had done it in a companionable silence.

"Seems to me he already made his mind up on the subject," Merlin said. At least, he thought, that was the way the situation looked to him.

"I do hope so," Gwen said. "That sorcerer seems pretty powerful. I'd hate to think of what he'd do if he wasn't pardoned."

"Other than being burnt to a crisp, you mean?" Merlin said.

"I mean," Gwen sighed, "that this cycle of hate should stop somewhere. I'm not saying that I trust all sorcerers, of course, but if we show compassion maybe it would work better than using an iron fist all the time."

Merlin nodded, feeling much more proud of her. "I do believe you're right on that, Gwen."

**

When Merlin returned with the water, after heating it in the kitchens, and the clean bandages, he saw that Gaius and Emrys were alone. He didn't know if he was glad or disappointed that Arthur was gone. He set the stuff on the work table and immediately went to Emrys' side. Emrys was still sleeping and looking older than normal.

"Gaius, will he wake up by noon tomorrow?"

"He should," Gaius said. "Why do you ask?"

"That's how much time he has left before he needs to redo the time-travel spell."

"Well, my boy, since his job is done I would say he wouldn't need to recast the spell. Don't you think so?" Gaius peered at his over his eyeglasses.

"Yes, but…" Merlin sighed. He didn't want to admit that he didn't want to miss the chance to say goodbye to his doppelganger; especially after all they'd been through together (even if it wasn't much).

Gaius patted his shoulder in a fatherly manner. "Don't worry yourself sick over it. I'm sure your other—I mean Emrys will awake before he has to leave, and you'll get to have a few words with him beforehand. For now, I need your help with re-doing his bandages, and maybe if it is possible you could quietly cast a de-aging spell on him. It wouldn't do to have Arthur seeing him suddenly looking like an old man."

Merlin nodded and proceeded to do as asked. It didn't take long to redo Emrys' bandages, and once finished, Merlin went to double-check the spell to cast on him. With Gaius' help, again, they were able to get Emrys looking like thirty-five once more. If he had been more experienced and trained with the spell, Merlin would have easily done it himself. If it hadn't worked, Gaius had the de-aging potion at the ready (the same one he had to take when he'd transformed himself into an eighty-year-old man).

Ten minutes later, just as Merlin was going back into his room to hide his magic book, Arthur entered. The prince was scowling still, but didn't look as angry as he had when he first spotted Merlin with the sorcerer. He looked more tired than anything, but a tired Arthur could be a grumpy Arthur, so Merlin stayed cautious.

"How is he, Gaius?" Arthur asked the moment he was next to them.

"Improving," Gaius replied. "The colour is finally coming back to his cheeks, as you can see for yourself, Sire. His bruises are healing well; faster than if you bruised, thanks to his magic, and he's been sleeping soundly. He hadn't been coughing up blood or wheezing, so he should make a full recovery."

"Good," Arthur said slowly. "I've discovered the guards who had mistreated him and gave them their due punishments; that is the sort of thing I won't allow while I'm in charge. …Please let me know when he wakes, Gaius. I wish to speak to him and let him know that he's pardoned, and to thank him for saving my life."

"Of course, Sire," Gaius said, bowing.

"Merlin," Arthur began, turning toward him before leaving. "I wish to see you in my chambers in an hour. Don't be late."

Merlin swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed. "Yes, Sire."

The minute Arthur left the room, Merlin ran into his own room to hide his book before he forgot. Whatever it was that Arthur wanted from him he needed to make sure he was prepared for any event. He knew it couldn't be dinner, because it was well past that. It must be at least nine o'clock. He was relieved that Emrys would be all right, but now Merlin worried what Arthur had in mind for him. He had been found with Emrys, after all; would he be punished for breaking Emrys out of jail? If so, Arthur seemed to want to keep it a private punishment.

Merlin worked himself up with worry to what Arthur had wanted and what kind of punishment he'd receive. Or, possibly, he wouldn't get one since Emrys was being pardoned as well. Maybe Arthur just had questions he wanted answered. Merlin's emotions swung wildly from one end of the spectrum to the other: to relieved and then to a bundle of nerves, back and forth. When he finally reached the door to Arthur's chambers he was on the verge of hysterics. He couldn't wait in the hall or Arthur would come looking for him, so he carefully opened the door and peeked inside.

Nothing out of the ordinary, which was somewhat of a relief, but then looks could be deceiving. He stepped inside, trying to stay hopeful but failed more than succeeded. Arthur stood from his chair, a goblet full of wine in one hand. Merlin stood straight, hands behind his back; the perfect servant. Arthur no doubtingly took in his nervousness and subservient manner by the way he was eyeing Merlin.

"Relax, Merlin," Arthur said, setting down his goblet on the table. "I'm not about to send you to the stocks or the dungeons. If I wanted to do that I would have done so in front of the entire court."

Merlin's shoulders sagged and his stature slackened. "Oh, thank goodness for that."

"However, what you've done was very irresponsible and reckless. I'm not pleased with what you did, mostly because you went about it behind my back. If you would've come to me first, you would've discovered that I was fighting for the sorcerer's life." Arthur stepped closer to Merlin, leaning against the table with one hand and putting his fist on a hip. "That is why council took so long. The older members of court were stubborn arses, but thanks to Lancelot, Gwaine, and a few other knights they've convinced me (before council even started) and the majority of the court that killing the sorcerer for using magic to save my life is not fair or just. Therefore, it had been agreed that the sorcerer leave Camelot for the time being, but only until I can get the whole ban on magic sorted."

Merlin gaped, staring dumbfounded at Arthur. He didn't know what to think about this turn of events. He just stood there and gawked at Arthur as if he had done an impossible feat of magic himself.

"Merlin?" Arthur said, corner of his lips quirking in amusement. He lightly tapped the side of Merlin's face with a palm. "Have I stunned you into silence at last? Huh, seems I have; and it hadn't even involved any exchange of fluids or the pressing of heated skin."

"You—" Merlin shook himself. "Don't speak in such a manner, Sire," he croaked. "Unless you mean to get ravaged."

Arthur threw his head back and laughed unconditionally. "Is that my reward for helping this favored sorcerer of yours?"

Merlin nearly closed the gap between them, faces an inch away. "That is the least of it," he promised, and then, almost the same time as Arthur, he smashed their faces together, hands tangled in blond strands. Arthur's hands were also combing through Merlin's shorter hair, and down his neck and face. They pushed and pulled until ending up on Arthur's bed. Merlin didn't care at the moment how Lancelot and Gwaine got Arthur to agree, but he knew he had to repay them some day.

Like before, they fell into bed together with more ease than should've been warranted. Arthur stayed on his back, pulling Merlin over him, hands roaming up and down his body. Merlin squirmed against him, wanting nothing more than to wiggle free of their clothing. Arthur took his time, though, removing Merlin's scarf first to get at his neck, then his jacket to bare more of Merlin's collarbones and bits of skin connecting his neck and shoulder. Merlin kept himself pressed tightly to Arthur's body, trying to wiggle his hips against Arthur's, but Arthur only allowed so much movement. Most of the time their upper halves were moving more, caressing and kissing and licking, letting the arousal between them to grow slowly and casually. When Merlin was finally shirtless, he let out an unmanly squeak to the feel of Arthur's mouth on his nipple.

They stayed that way for nearly fifteen minutes, kissing and touching their upper bodies. Arthur finally getting shirtless, which Merlin had been panting for, wanting to touch and taste that golden skin. Merlin slid partially on Arthur, body almost off Arthur's, and then Arthur was more or less cradling him and without releasing his lips from Merlin's pushed them more onto their sides. They tangled their legs together, and the promise of what would come made them hard. They hardly even rutted against each other.

Merlin wasn't sure how it happened, but suddenly he had a lapful of prince wiggling his bottom over his clothed erection and his hand was sliding the prince's trousers off so he could get at that narrow opening between the cheeks. Without looking, Merlin stretched out an arm off the side and grabbed the oil from the table (more like the oil floating a few inches into his hand, unseen). Arthur hid his face in Merlin's neck, kissing it once in a while, as Merlin gently pressed a finger inside. Arthur didn't object. His body yielded almost too easily, but Merlin didn't dwell on it as he prepared his prince. Even after Merlin took out his cock, stroking it a few times to full hardness, Arthur still said nothing. Then, Arthur gave Merlin his silent approval by letting him push up inside.

It was more than Merlin could have hoped for. The open trust Arthur was showing him, the submission, the emotion; it was all pouring out of his future king through body language. Arthur didn't really need words to express himself with Merlin in this act; didn't need to show how vulnerable he'd made himself for Merlin, Merlin just knew by touch and response. Arthur was completely his now; that was the underlying current in this action.

Merlin splayed Arthur open with his hands as he drove upward into Arthur, gently at first, allowing Arthur to get used to the feel, then bit by bit Merlin strengthened his pushes in an upward arc, flexing his thighs and buttocks. Arthur's response was to bury his face more into Merlin's neck and release a puff of hot air into Merlin's ear. Their sweaty temples pressed tightly together as they moved (or more like Merlin moved and Arthur laid there allowing Merlin to manhandle him), barely a sound between them except for soft panting, skin slapping against skin, and once in a while sharp, surprised gasps and moans out of Arthur. Merlin was able to turn Arthur more onto his side, but that was the furthest he was willing to go. If Merlin tried to roll him onto his back, Arthur's muscles would seize up and with all his strength would not give in. Merlin relented, knowing he was privileged to have at least this much of Arthur.

It didn't take long before Arthur was showing just how pushy a bottom he was, looming over Merlin again. When Arthur found more courage, he took over with the movements, holding Merlin's hands above his head. He rode Merlin's cock as fast and hard and unrelenting as if on the battlefield. His grunts and groans also grew, especially when Merlin thrust hard into the sensitive spot, and Arthur then kept his head tipped back, eyes shut, as he rode closer to his completion. 

"Arthur, Arthur," Merlin panted, but Arthur seemed to pretend he couldn't hear him, keeping with his rough bouncing. When Arthur finally let go of Merlin's hands to hold onto the headboard, gaining more leverage, Merlin ran his hands down that well-sculpted body from chest to stomach and finally wrapping tightly around Arthur's neglected cock. All it took was a few more pushes and pulls and Arthur was coming in long, pearly strings over Merlin's stomach and fist. Arthur's body tightened around him, pushing him even closer to climax. Arthur fell forward, exhausted and sated, so with a little help of magic and an oncoming orgasm, Merlin rolled them so that for his last few thrusts Arthur was on his back. Arthur's eyes widened and then he scowled, teeth grinding in what Merlin knew was displeasure, but he was too far gone to care. He pressed a firm kiss onto Arthur's angry, unresponsive lips as he came hard and deep inside Arthur.

There was only a few seconds of sated bliss before Arthur was pushing him away, getting out of bed.

"Oi, no need to be like that," Merlin sighed.

"I allowed you to…" Arthur said, barely above a whisper, and through gritted teeth, "to… and you had to force me into a position I didn't want."

"You were finished," Merlin argued. Arthur rounded on him and he shrank back.

"That didn't mean you could finish with me on my back. If I ever allow you to… do that to me again, you will do it my way. Understood?"

Merlin closed his eyes so that he didn't accidentally roll them. "Yes, Sire. I'm sorry."

"So you should be," Arthur grumbled. He slipped his trousers back on as he continued: "Honestly, Merlin, the things I let you get away with! If my father were feeling better you'd still be rotting away in the dungeons. Such as it is, you should be grateful that I care about you. Now get out so I can sleep, and go check on the sorcerer."

"You're kicking me out?"

"I'm asking you to leave, yes. Unless you'd rather I threw you out with your meat still dangling out of your trousers?"

"I'm going, I'm going," Merlin sighed. He straightened himself out, slipped his shirt and jacket back on, grabbed his scarf, and slowly made his way back to Gaius'. Last of the romantics, Arthur was.

**

Emrys was improving by leaps and bounds, and in the morning he was awake and eating breakfast. Merlin had been so happy when he saw Emrys' eyes open that he let out a soft noise and threw his arms around him. Laughing quietly, Emrys hugged back.

"Stop being so sensitive," Emrys said. "I'm fine. At least for now. Who knows what's to happen to me come noon?"

"Don't even speak like that," Merlin gasped. "You won't die."

"No," Emrys said quietly. "I'll just fade away."

"Stop it," Merlin nearly sobbed. "Quit acting so nonchalant about this! Just because you stopped something bad from happening doesn't mean you'll cease to exist. I'm sure things will work out for you in the future."

Emrys didn't argue the point anymore, mainly because he knew that whatever he said would upset Merlin more. He decided to let Merlin stay in his nice, ideal daydream if that helped him in coming to terms with the situation. 

Before either of them even finished their porridge, Arthur and Gwaine entered. The three magic-users raised their heads almost as one. Gwaine gave them a friendly smile, and Merlin smiled back. Arthur looked more serious and kingly.

"I see you're awake and doing well," Arthur said, eyes on Emrys. "That's good."

Arthur trailed off, lips pursed as if struggling with words. Gwaine nudged him, gesturing for him to go on, and Arthur glared at his cheeky knight before continuing.

"Uh, I guess I should thank you for saving my life, especially at the risk of your own."

"You're welcome, Sire," Emrys said, tone low and raspy. "I understand that not many sorcerers would have done that for the son of Uther Pendragon, but I believe that you are not your father. You've got more of a heart."

"Watch it, Sorcerer," Arthur warned. "I could easily change my mind and have you beheaded." Emrys only gave him a sloe-eyed smile, not one bit phased. "Well," Arthur continued, "to that extent, I was going to have a feast in your honor, for saving me and as a send off, but I don't know if it would be a good idea for the public to see such a spectacle being made for a sorcerer. There are still plenty of people, nobles and commoners alike, that are afraid of your kind and it might create panic."

"No problem, your Highness," Emrys said. "I prefer not to have a big deal made out of it. Your thanks are all I need."

Arthur nodded, cheeks slightly pinking. "Uh, that's good. I hear you'll be leaving at noon today. I wish you luck in… whatever else you encounter. If I do decide to lift the ban on magic, you're welcome to come visit any time."

Emrys smiled, and it was warmer than the last, and his eyes took on a more lively shine. "I shall, Sire. Thank you."

Again, Arthur nodded. He swung an arm restlessly before turning to face Gwaine. "Well, back to our duties, then. Tell Sir Lancelot to meet us in the courtyard; we're behind on our training schedule."

"Of course, Sire," Gwaine grinned. He bowed to Arthur and then gave a little head nod to Merlin. Merlin tipped his head in return, and when he saw Gwaine give Emrys a little salute with two fingers, Merlin's cheeks hurt from how wide his smile grew. Emrys smiled and nodded back.

Before Arthur was out the door, he turned back around and locked gazes with Merlin. Merlin smiled shyly, and Arthur gave him just as shy a smile back. Merlin knew that before long, that night in fact, they'd be spending some quality time under the covers.

Then, noon was soon upon them—all too soon for Merlin's liking. Merlin slumped sullenly after Emrys toward the Great Dragon site. Emrys had already said his goodbyes to Gaius, Gaius actually teary-eyed from having to see him go, and reluctantly Emrys allowed the older man to embrace him. Merlin ignored the wetness that had developed in the other sorcerer's eyes. Emrys didn't want an audience to see him off, but Merlin would not be persuaded to hang back while Emrys went to meet his fate.

Emrys looked up at the sky, the sun nearly at its highest point. Merlin watched him, a hard, painful lump in his throat.

"Well," Emrys said. "I guess this is it."

"Yeah, I—I guess it is." Merlin choked, clutching his elbows. He kept his head lowered as he fought off his tears.

"I don't know what will happen to me once I return, but whatever transpires I will meet it head-on like the warlock soldier that I am."

"Oh Gods," Merlin whimpered. "I—you're so much braver than I'll ever…"

Emrys sighed, but not annoyed. He lay a gentle hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Now, now, none of that. If I cease to exist then you must do what you can to live your life to the fullest. Watch over Arthur, yeah? Keep him safe, no matter how much he protests it. And above all, don't let your heart get in the way when faced with a difficult task. It'll only make matters worse for you in the end."

"There's nothing wrong with having a big heart," Merlin argued, voice shaky. "I must keep these emotions, don't you see? I can't allow myself to become like Morgana, not even a little. The moment Arthur finds out about me, I want him to see how much love I have in my heart, and that will hopefully make him understand that it isn't magic itself that is evil but how you use it."

The corner of Emrys' mouth lifted. "I do believe you may have already accomplished that, gentle twin."

"We did," Merlin corrected. "My warrior twin."

"Yes."

The wind suddenly picked up around them, glittering and swirling, and it was then that Merlin realized that it was time; Emrys was going back.

"Gods," Merlin sobbed. "You—I don't want—"

Emrys sighed, and this time it was in slight annoyance. "For the goddess's sake, will you stop it?" He wiped away the tear from Merlin's cheek. "Arthur was right after all; you are a big girl."

"Can't help it." Merlin hiccupped, and then laughed at the ridiculousness of it. "I'll miss you."

"I'm you, idiot."

"I know, but… but…"

The wind grew wilder and the air around them thicker. There was the sound of a giant bell in the background, none like Merlin had ever heard before. It was magical and almost arcane in nature, and in a way it was also soothing. It didn't do any good for his heart, however, and he couldn't stop the tears streaking down his face. He knew he was being ridiculous, that he shouldn't feel this way for his own self, but he couldn't stop it no matter how hard he tried.

"Bloody—oh, come here," Emrys pulled Merlin into a warm and tight embrace, and then they kissed quickly, passionately. Before Merlin could even pull away in order to say one last goodbye, his arms were holding nothing but thin air. He fell to his knees, arms wrapped around his body as he tried to keep the remnants of the golden tendrils of magic there. The bell ceased and the wind died down.

"Emrys…"

**

It was nearly an hour before Merlin could find the strength to trudge back into the castle. Arthur was in his chambers already; having finished lunch that some other servant had brought up, and was sharpening his throwing knives beside the fire. When Merlin slumped in, shoulders hunched, Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Don't look so glum, Merlin," Arthur said, gesturing at the rug in front of the fire. "Sit and take a load off. I have other servants doing your job for today, since I knew that you'd be more than worthless after the sorcerer's departure. Of course, had I known that you'd gone and fallen for him I suppose I could have arranged for a farewell feast if it would've made you happy."

Merlin mustered up a smile. "No, thank you anyway, Sire. He couldn't stay any longer. It's nice of you to offer, though." Merlin sat in front of the fire and leaned back against Arthur's chair, right beside Arthur's outstretched legs.

"Don't stay upset," Arthur said, tone almost gentle. He ran his fingers through Merlin's short-cropped hair in the back, playing with the ducktail. "Or our evening will be ruined. I've ordered a servant to see to it we have a bath tonight, and then we shall dine together in here, followed by, hopefully, some defiling of the bed sheets."

Merlin tilted his head up, smile brighter than before. He was cheered suddenly just by Arthur's light touches and princely gestures. He missed Emrys, but it was softened by Arthur's presence. Merlin leaned up into Arthur's hand, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply.

"As long as you're with me, Arthur, I will stay forever happy."

The End

Epilogue next…


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emrys is referred to as Merlin when there's no need to distinquish between the two.

**

The familiar sound of the Time Bell drew Gwaine out of his catnap. It had been almost more than three days since he'd last seen Merlin, and he was desperate to know if his mate was okay (and, of course, if he had succeeded in his mission).

The wind picked up, gushing wild and golden, before there was a soft sucking noise, popping Gwaine's eardrums. There Emrys stood before him in their battered, war-torn tower, face bearded and bandaged. Gwaine raised an eyebrow at the new look, but then had to rush forward to catch his magical friend before he fell face first onto the stone floor.

"Merlin," Gwaine said, holding on as tight as he dared. "You all right? How'd it go with the princess? Oh, and did you meet your past self?"

Emrys—Merlin—chuckled into his friend's shoulder, but his eyes were telling a different story. Gwaine recognized it for what it was, but he decided to bring it up again later when he wasn't so knackered. 

"I'll tell you all about it in due time, you nosy parker. Just… I need to lie down a bit."

"You do look rather peaked. Here," Gwaine steered him over to the bed. "Sit; take a load off while I go contact the others to let them know you're back."

"Yeah, thanks," Merlin sighed, eyes shut. When Gwaine left the room, Merlin allowed the silent tears to fall as he willed his body into sleep.

**

Lancelot and Gwen were the first to enter the room, and the noise of their low bickering roused him.

"We should let him sleep," Lancelot was saying. "I'm sure he had a trying time of it, especially after seeing Arthur again."

"If he's sleeping we'll let him sleep," Gwen said. "I'm just worried, that's all. I want to see for myself that he's all right."

Merlin opened his eyes slowly to take in the scene. Lancelot and Gwen stood in the middle of the room, almost hesitate to come in any further, facing each other, and in Lancelot's arms he held his and Gwen's son Galahad. Gwen was, evidently, still looking as if she'd swallowed a dragon egg (and waddling like a duck).

"All right," Lancelot said. "But the second he seems too tired we'll—"

"Hello, Lancelot," Merlin whispered. "Guinevere."

"Merlin!" Gwen gasped and then hurried to his side. "You're awake. Are you feeling okay?" She touched a hand to his forehead as if she were his mother.

"Just a little tired, that's all."

"Back to your normal self yet, love?" Gwaine asked as he swaggered in. "Yup, looks like you're back to your beautiful twenty-five year old self. How 'bout a kiss, hmm?"

"Gwaine!" Merlin laughed as Gwaine nuzzled his face into Merlin's less fuzzed one. "Stop it, or I won't tell you what happened." He gently pushed Gwaine away.

Looking like a kicked puppy, Gwaine backed off. "Okay, love. Tell us all about it. But if you ask me, it seems like you didn't complete your mission."

"Yeah," Gwen said, piping up like she normally did. Ever since Arthur's death she'd become much more outspoken. "Nothing has changed. Camelot is still in ruins, the main part of the castle is anyway; the land is still overrun with bandits, orcs, and wicked sorcerers, and people are still lined up trying to pull Excalibur out of the stone."

There was a slight pause before Merlin took the chance to answer. "No, I completed my mission."

"Then where's Arthur?" Lancelot asked. He rocked his crying son in his arms.

Finding some strength, Merlin pushed himself off the bed and stumbled to the dirt-streaked window. Looking out over the dreary landscape, he quietly said, "I'll confront Kilgharrah about it. I'm sure he has an answer."

Displeased with their leader's reply, they made they left the room, except for Gwaine, his hormonal sidekick. He stood at Merlin's right, looking out the window with him. They both saw the same brown grass and dead trees, the same muddy moat, the same cloudy sky, and the same destroyed homes surrounding the remains of the castle. There was smoke billowing on the horizon, most likely caused by bandits or another wizard's duel had broken out.

"You miss him, don't you?" Gwaine said, pressing his face against Merlin's in comfort (and possibly also because he just wanted to touch him).

"I always miss Arthur," Merlin said tersely.

"I'm not talking about Arthur," Gwaine whispered.

Merlin shut his eyes and took a deep breath, his mind filling with his younger, more benevolent past self. "Yeah," he finally said, so softly Gwaine barely heard him. "Very."

After a brief pause, Gwaine whispered, "You want to see him again?"

"Gwaine, it's best if—"

"There's a way," Gwaine interrupted. Merlin turned his head to stare incredulously at his friend.

"What do you mean?" he dared ask.

Gwaine grinned impishly. "I'll show you. Come on." He led Merlin into his—Merlin's—magical laboratory and from there to the back wall where Merlin kept all his tomes and parchments. When he realized just what Gwaine was about to show him (remind him, more like), his heart grew lighter with each step closer to the solution.

**

Merlin stretched like a cat, and also smiled like one. Arthur was still fast asleep beside him, snoring away. Merlin was going to have lots of fun teasing him about it in the morning. He ached in places he didn't know he could, and one certain place where he knew he would, but it was so worth it. (Arthur just had to claim his manhood back, but being macho wasn't that important to Merlin.)

And it was all thanks to his doppelganger. If it hadn't been for him, Merlin probably would have still been pining for Arthur (and almost certainly vice versa).

Speaking of the devil, Arthur murmured something in his sleep and rolled over, carrying on with his snoring. The prat still shagged like a courser, but that would soon change if he had anything to say about it. He wasn't going to go on with this affair without some spice in their love-making. He might even try that maneuver that Emrys had taught him; he was certainly bendy enough.

"Merlin…"

He gasped; the mere thought of Emrys seemed to have caused him to lose his mind, again. He could have sworn he heard Emrys' voice.

"Merlin?"

There it was again! Merlin shook his head as if he had water in his ears and looked around the darkened room. Then, on the other side of the bedroom, he heard:

"Psst! Merlin, over here. Come on, Gentle Twin, I haven't got all day."

"Emrys?" Merlin gasped. He stumbled out of bed, thankful the prince slept like a log after a good, hard shag, and sprinted quietly to the other side of the room to the full-length mirror. Sure enough, standing before him inside the mirror, with arms crossed and wearing a wicked smile, was Emrys. Merlin gaped, eyes nearly as large as shields.

"Bloody hell, I look simply dreadful so late into the evening," Emrys quipped, pretending to fix his hair as if Merlin really were his reflection. "And especially after getting hot and heavy with a muscle-bound stallion."

"Emrys—is that really you?" Merlin whispered.

"No, it's the ghost of Christmas past," Emrys said, then snickered. "Yes, of course it's me. Unless you've gone mad and started to hallucinate."

"Not funny," Merlin scowled, but then it hit him: he was able to see, and talk, to Emrys again! "Oh, this is—this is wonderful! Does this mean we can keep seeing each other?"

"Only if Arthur is willing to share," Emrys jested.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I meant—"

"I know what you meant," Emrys said. "But how will you explain things if he catches us talking to each other? Weirder still, how will you explain your own reflection talking back to you?"

"Fair point," Merlin sighed. "Wait, why am I thinking only of myself at a time like this?"

"Because I'm you?"

"I meant, you're alive! You're actually still alive. So what does this mean for your future? My future?"

"That's the thing," Emrys said. "You see, I went to speak to Kilgharrah—the one in my world—and he says that because of what I did I had created an alternate reality."

"A—a what?"

"An alternate reality—or universe. In other words, your timeline had branched off from mine. In your universe, Arthur's alive. But in mine…"

"Oh no," Merlin said, frowning. "Your Arthur is still dead."

"Precisely. Things are very gloomy and dangerous here. It's hard to survive in Camelot for me and my friends, but you've given me back some of my hope, my Gentle Twin. I will continue to fight, and maybe one day my Camelot will be beautiful and prosperous once again."

"I hope so, Emrys," Merlin said. He raised a hand to press against the looking glass, and Emrys did the same. He couldn't feel their skin touching, but he could imagine it. He edged closer, and so did Emrys, and for a crazy moment he thought about pressing his lips to the mirror. But then a noise from behind startled him, and he looked over his shoulder to see Arthur standing from the bed and walking toward him.

"Who are you talking to?" Arthur asked. He mussed his hair even more as he ran a hand through it and then scratched his belly.

"Oh, uh," Merlin turned his head back to the mirror quickly, but the only thing there was his own wide, nervous eyes and sleep-mussed hair. He stared for a moment longer to see if it was really himself or Emrys, but there was no denying that it was his own, benign image. "No one. Just… just thinking aloud to myself."

Arthur paused behind Merlin, stared at him and then looked into the mirror at their reflections. "Looks to me like you were about to kiss your own reflection. Seriously, Merlin, if you're not careful people are going to think that you fancy yourself."

Merlin forced out a laugh to hide his embarrassment, cheeks reddening. "That's rich, coming from you."

"I beg your pardon," Arthur gasped. "Are you suggesting that I'm narcissistic?"

"I'm not suggesting anything, Sire… other than your tendency to moan your own name in your sleep," Merlin lied. It was merely to get Arthur's goat, and it worked.

"Start running," Arthur warned, and a two second start was all Arthur gave him before giving chase. It didn't take long for Arthur to tackle Merlin onto the bed. Merlin laughed hard and loud, until Arthur had his hand down his trousers, and his laughter turned into moans.

Oblivious to either of them, the mirror shimmered gold again and a pair of familiar, blue eyes watched from across the room as Prince Arthur and his beloved manservant began another hard bout of love-making.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it, folks. The end to my time-traveling fic. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Cheers!
> 
> Additional: This was written before the series ended, and before I had started the newest fic that I'm working on now. Just letting you know so that you can see the difference in my writing once I start posting my newest Merlin fic.


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